#That's why Scott has to defeat him

[sirghostheart]

[ID: The stick figure violence meme. The top text says: "Girls when" and the center text says ""Gideon...I think I understand you man... And now I have to kill you."". End ID.]

I really hope I get to see this scene animated in the new show.

[malfoys-demigod]

hii! it’s iluvloganhowlett i’m just on my other acc! could you do a logan fluff where logan has a soft spot for u and lit only u? like for a prompt, scott asks a question and logan answers with some “it’s none of your business” or is j flat out mean where as when you ask the same question minutes later he’s nicer and thorough with his answer.

and can u please make it logan x mutant!reader🥰🥰

Logan Howlett, underrated softie

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ Logan Howlett x Reader

A/N: Hi @iluvloganhowlett!! I really appreciate your request and here it is! Enjoy, dear!!

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

Winters in upstate New York were exceptionally known for their extreme coldness.

Which of course was no shock that a particular mansion at Westchester County was at -3 degrees celcius, almost reaching at 4 in your keen opinion.

Just being inside made you want to wear a thick full body coat today, wrapped with your favorite scarf and gloves. But you felt silly about that idea, seeing how everyone else was just casually surviving the day with good long sleeved tops. How lucky of them.

Though it was only 8pm, you had the senseless idea of wrapping yourself in your blanket, trying to fall asleep in your bedroom, desparately hoping to sleep through the coldest day of the week.

After a few tosses and turns, feeling the icy breeze sneak into your body, you just knew there was no hope in dozing off. Not with this kind of weather!

You groaned in defeat, sitting up to curse to yourself why you had to feel so, so, so frigid of all days today.

Maybe some instant hot chocolate by the kitchen would help you soothe yourself into sleeping soon.

So you got up, wore an oversized sweater over your thick long sleeved top, placed on your fuzzy slippers, and made your way out of your room to the kitchen.

There were still students around the mansion, either reading books with each other, watching the television by the living room, or playing some board games while having hot beverages and snacks. Hmmm, the smell of hot chocolate from some of them just made you realize that hot chocolate is always a good idea.

Meanwhile over at the kitchen, just a few minutes before you had arrived, Storm was in one of the seats in front of the counter, having her decaffinated coffee, mixing some sugar and some milk with it. Yup, she was one of those who enjoyed the taste of cofffe, even at night, so she has it decaffinated so it won't affect her sleep later.

Scott grabbed a bowl and a box of Lucky Charms cereal from the cupboards and made his way to the fridge, which was being leaned on by Logan, who was having a round of beer.

Scott stood in front of Logan with a serious look on his face, expecting Logan to move. But Logan, who wanted to mess with the man, just stared back at him, flashing a mischievous look. "You should take a picture, it'll last longer."

"Move, asshole," Scott sneered, "I need milk."

Logan continued drinking from his beer, still eyeing scott with the same mischievous look on his face, ignoring his command.

"Oh, Scott, I still have some!" Storm interrupted, saving Scott from possibly wanting to strike Logan, based on his tight grip on his bowl, and now slightly wrinked cereal box.

"Dick," Scott muttered under his breath, moving through Logan, who felt like he won another round of Logan v Scott. That small win was now done being celebrated when you finally arrived into the kitchen.

"Hey guys," you greeted your colleagues, getting some 'heys' from Storm and a slightly disgruntled Scott.

"Hey, doll," Logan recited gently, earning a dear smile from you. He watched you look around the cupboards, noticing your mystified expression as you wandered around each cupboard and cabinets.

You then moved to the fridge, "Sorry, could I just check something inside?" you asked Logan softly with your fingers skimming over each other.

Scott looked up from his meal, watching Logan expose a smile on his mouth, gently moving aside as you opened the fridge, watching you hmph in disappointment.

Scott made his own quiet hmph to himself, seeing Logan's patience with you, to which Storm smiled coyly seeing sparks fly around the tough Wolverine.

"Didn't find what you were looking for, darl?"

"Yeah, I think the kids got the last instant hot chocolate powders for themselves," you frowned lightly in disappointment. "It's okay though," admitting in defeat. You were starting to make your way out, looking at the doorframe, "I think I'll just-"

"Hold on there, bub," Logan's instruction brought you to a halt. You turned around to see a now quiet Logan, whose eyes were looking into, what he thought, were puppy eyes. "Instant powders are for kids," he continued, his eyes quickly scanning around the room as if he was about to make use of the information around him.

"How about I make you some real hot chocolate, huh?"

While Scott and Storm turned to each other, exchanging unsure looks, you let out a small laugh in disbelief, which determined Logan to actually pull it off.

"You?"

You didn't want to sound mean about it, I mean, anyone can make hot chocolate. It wasn't rocket science, or some gourmet dish, but never in your wildest dreams did you think that Logan Howlett, the man who only went to the kitchen to bring out his secret stash of beer, would make you hot chocolate?

But the way you asked didn't matter to Logan, as he got whole milk, chocolate, whipped cream, and heavy cream from the fridge, walked to another counter for powdered sugar, and expresso powder, which he directly got a teaspoon of from Storm's side to which she didn't say anything about, since she herself, was inclined to watch Logan act as if he was someone else she didn't know.

Logan was now whisking together his ingredients in a saucepan that you helped get.

"How long should these be over the heat?" you tip-toed, wanting to see over Logan's shoulder's as he was perfectly centered in front of the saucepan.

"Till you see small bubbles appear around the edges," he replied, looking over at you tip-toe, which he wanted to melt at just seeing.

He then stirred in chopped chocolate, waiting for it to melt, and carefully placing the sauce to low heat, stating to you that 'it's needed for the chocolate to melt completely.'

His little moment of domestic fluff with you and him in the kitchen was put to a pause when a voice from somewhere behind him got his unfortunate attention.

"Since when did you have time to learn all this?," Scott teased, receiving a nudge from the elbow from Storm who shook her head.

"Shut the hell up, prick," Logan said, not even facing a smirking Scott.

Logan then served the drinks in two mugs for him and for you, of course topping them with lots of whipped cream. More than excited to try Logan's hot chocolate, you immediately took a careful sip, tasting the intense, rich, and absolute heaven which had to be the most decadent hot chocolate ever.

"Oh my god," you said, closing your eyes with satisfaction, "It feels like I'm in one of those Parisian cafes, drinking the best hot chocolate there."

It was as if every sip made you forget about how cold and freezing you were just earlier, and seeing you look so content with the drink made Logan want to beam, but of course realized Scott and Storm were, annoyingly still around.

"Glad you like it, Y/N," he thanked, seeing you turn to face him with a curious look on your face.

"I do want to ask..." you hung back the question, "When did you have time to learn how to perfect this? I know you didn't just learn this overnight."

It was a genuine question because despite living since the 1800s or so, it was not exactly like Logan had free time to cook around or whip up hot chocolate, right? This man went through a lot in his life, and would he really just use his spare time investing in something like.. hot chocolate?

Logan looked down, with a humble and small smile on his face.

"My mother..," he first started, "When I was young and while my dad was out, she would make hot chocolate on cold days, or even any day for that matter."

There was so much value you had, appreciating the little yet deeply personal story behind your now, favorite drink. You knew Logan was never an open book with anyone. It was more of a shut and locked up book with the key below the bottom of the ocean for no one to pick up.

But the way he had just been with you tonight so far, was like, he was giving you the key for you, and literally you only.

"So you rememberd her exact recipe?" you inquired more, with a sparkle that Logan saw in your eyes.

"Nah, not exactly," he said, slightly timid with a grin, " 'course I adapted to today's ingredients like instant whipped cream, but it's something like what she made before."

"Do you think you could make some for me again tomorrow?" You genuinely requested, which made Logan more or less, want to fold and do as you say in a heartbeat.

But of course, he wanted to slightly play it cool. "Don't see why not," nodding in agreement.

"Good, I'm gonna bring this with me back to my room now," you announced, "Thanks so much, Logan, good night!"

You then smiled at Scott and Storm, waving them goodbye as you walked away from them, leaving them to smirk like children at Logan.

"That was cute." Storm said, bringing Logan back to his usual, serious look.

"I'd love to try some tomorrow too, Logan," Scott tried to fake his genuine statement at the same time trying not to burst a laughter out of him.

Without any words this time, Logan, holding his mug of hot chocolate in hand, passed Scott with one claw out from his other hand, slicing his cereal box in half.

"Asshole!" Scott yelled, now trying to pick up the pieces of cereal as Logan walked out of the kitchen took a sip from his mug, indulding in the fact that,

A. he made another successful hot chocolate in his life

B. he gets to make it again for you tomorrow

C. he hopes to make it for you for as long as winter's still there.

[slixqrta]

yandere! childhood friend x reader

synopsis: going back to your hometown was something you’ve been planning for a while, to visit a friend for a few days. however, with a snowstorm coming, you learned a new side of an old friend.

TW: 18+ writing, noncon, gn! reader, amab! yandere, forced cheating bc of yandere, self victim blaming, reader is no having a good time.

a/n: sooo this was meant to be released in christmas…however there were some complications at home such as going to the beach with family and a bunch of my father’s friends inside an old house and getting some skin allergies due to the beach. but no worries, because i am back and ready to write more for everyone! enjoy this one my dear readers!

yandere! childhood friend who you almost fail to recognize when visiting your hometown. he is now taller, stronger and definitely more mature compared to the last time you saw him.

long gone was the short boy that often hidden behind your back when bullied. and instead of that voice that always failed when talking to anyone, there is a husky voice that makes you wonder if he forcing it or not.

unlike the old times of using a stool and the ladder to reach for the cookie jar at the highest shelve, pierre just extend his arm to grab it for you. he doesn’t even put try to keep the jar way from your reach, already taking pleasure in seeing how you lack height in comparison to his.

yandere! childhood friend who takes advantage that you are going to stay at the town for a few hours to see his extended family at the house he grew up in.

his parents’ house couldn’t be more full during holidays season. his uncle and aunt are there with their children, a bunch of little rascals that don’t waste time in climbing pierre at first opportunity.

the kids begging their dear old cousin to play a snowball game with them at the backyard and of course, he dragged you in.

you couldn’t believe your eyes in seeing a grown up man actually playing seriously against a bunch of little kids. it’s almost comical seeing scott trying so hard, yet losing the instant when the kids overthrow him with your help.

by a slight moment, he looked defeated. giving a performance worthy of an award as gets up from the snow, seeing how the children continue to play with you.

scott struggles to not imagine a future when seeing you like this, acting so docile and gentle with the hypothetical children you two might have in a future. it’s a cliche, he knows, but he can’t help to imagine it.

yandere! childhood friend who accidentally forget to tell you about the incoming blizzard that is going to hit the town. now, you struck with him inside this whole big house without any contact with the outside world due the electricity being out.

call it bad, but scott is grateful that his extended family are struck in the town’s mall. they will be there for hours and hours until the snow storm ends. which means he will be trapped with you inside home for a long time, just the two of you.

yandere! childhood friend who light up his mother’s aromatic candles to set up a mood. scott’s childhood bedroom—now turned into a guess room has become the perfect place for both of you to spend during the snowstorm.

the little chitchat between you two is something that he missed so much. things could be like this forever, a cozy place to call home as scott becomes the breadwinner of the family and you turns into a stay at house partner with small versions of you running all over the house.

it would be a dream of his to this to happen. but you had to spoil everything with those little words coming from your lips:

“my partner is probably wondering why am i not back home…”

yandere! childhood friend who can’t let you ruin the future he imagined. scott shaped his life around you, to make things easier and better just for you! and you dare to throw everything away for another person? he can’t let you do that.

scott’s room, a place full of memories and sweet dreams that made your childhood a memorable experience. the shelves still carry some of his favorite toys with pictures of the two of you.

a place full of dreams turned into a cage thanks to him, the boy who you believed to be the most precious and trusted person to ever exist.

the boy who made you smile when younger is the same one who is making your body so painful.

“don’t cry, [name], it’s okay…” he whispers, his blue eyes filled with softness. his words were meant to soothe you, to make you feel less scared of him during an act like this. but this isn’t working. “i’m sorry, but there is no other way to make you stay with me.”

you know he isn’t being sincere with you, not when his cock has already made his way inside your entrance.

it’s already so deep. even with the stretch is bearable as he moves inside you, you continue to cry against an old shirt of his that scott forced inside your mouth.

he leans over you, kissing your tears away and then your neck—gently, which only makes you cry harder. his cock hits you again, making you wonder how much energy this man has.

his hips slowly crash into yours as he fucks you slowly and steadily. there are the sounds of a sweet love making, a contrasted to the snowstorm outside.

it’s obvious that scott won’t last long, too entrenched with the moment and too focused on his pleasure alone as he holds your hips closer to his.

“oh-fuck,” he yelled out as his hips buried themselves into you, fully, sketching you once again before spilling himself into you.

his cum deep within your insides. it ruins the remains of the remains of your underwear when some of the fluids escape from the entrance, even though scott hasn’t remove himself from you.

it’s warm and humid—you don’t really know how to explain, but it’s gross and you want it out of you.

you don’t have any strength to fight your way out, not when you are exhausted after fighting him earlier and as result, leaving the room messy as it is now. so, the only option is to plead.

“scott—“

the front door from downstairs opens.

you hear the voices of scott’s younger cousin and his parents coming from downstairs. they are celebrating the fact they arrive just in time to surprise their beloved old son with a gift and they also brought one just for you too.

it’s only then that scott removes himself from you. he stands up, zipping up his pants before spraying one of the colognes from the dresser. there is a big smile on his face, one that you used to love so much before.

you stay on the ground. pondering what will your life be like after this.

there is the relief of him being away from you, to not to feel his intrusion at your entrance that slowly repels the fluids from your insides. however, there is the fear of him.

would your parents believe on you? they often praise the golden boy as if he was their own child, always hoping and trying to hint at the idea of you marrying him when older. you still remind how disappointed they were when seeing you dating another man that wasn’t scott.

would his parents believe on you? there is a problem when hearing their oldest child—the perfection in person has done something unspeakable to another human being. you can already imagine how disgusted and horrified they would look at you, calling you a liar for telling the true.

you know deep down they won’t believe you.

everyone always prefer to stand next to a man who has the perfect smile, a prosperous future with an incoming promotion at his job than a struggling college student who has problems with alcohol and an argument with your boyfriend before returning home for the holidays.

and so, you cry.

the dried tears getting replaced by new ones as you feel scott cleaning the fluids from your thighs with wet handkerchiefs. it’s a humiliating experience having a man violated your trust, but having him clean with a delicate touch you is even worse.

“it’s okay,” his lips turning into a smile as scott forces you to wear his clothes. your ruined underwear and outfit are replaced by an old pair of his pajamas shorts and a big shirt that makes you feel too small for your own good. “everything will be alright, sweetie. for now on, it will be the two of us, okay? and i almost forget, call that stupid man and end that relationship. i don’t want to hear any references about him.”

you can’t say anything.

not when scott drags you downstairs to meet with his family. his little siblings and cousins are happy in seeing you, showing off their newest toys as your mind is too far gone. none of them notice it, they are too innocent to realize that something is wrong with you.

but the adults does. scott’s parents question him about the lack of enthusiasm from your part—they are worried if you are already too tired, yet their worries disappear when their son replies with the magic words.

“they are just too anxious in making our relationship public. nothing to be ashamed, [name] is just thinking too much for their own good.”

his parents' face light up with visible joy. after years of whising to see you and scott as a couple, their long-held wish has finally come reality—or so they think. both of them eagerly spread the news to the others guests, their joy so overwhelming that they don't even notice the silence hanging over you.

you are no longer playing with the childre. instead, you stand near the huge window of the living room, gazing on the snowflakes dfiting softly to the ground outside.

the world feel quieter for a moment, enough to pretend that nothing from before happened, but he arrives. scott steps closer and wraps his arms around you, his touch gentle and steady unlike before.his presences makes you tense, it makes you want to scream for the others about he did to you and yet, you remain in silence.

"i promise, [name]." he leaves a kiss at the back of your neck, making your skin freeze under his touch as he whispers. "i will make you the happiest person in earth as long you listen to me, okay?"

taglist!

-> @kiiyoooo

[fuji09]

Something I just realized, Deaton was the Hale emissary, he was around when Derek was younger, he had to have known about what happened with Paige. He had to have known why Derek's eyes glowed blue.

Something that irked me when watching and rewatching the show, Deaton had made a promise to Talia that if anything happened to her that he would help and look after Derek. But when Derek returns, and yes I know Derek had tied him up and punched him thinking he was the alpha, Deaton honestly didn't really help him.

When Derek was an alpha, Deaton constantly talked down to Derek and kept telling him how shitty of an alpha he was, instead of actually, ya know, helping the poor kid who had no idea how to be an alpha and was doing the best he could.

Then Deaton comes up with this plan and gets Scott to carry out how to kill Gerard, you can't tell me that wasn't the end goal, there is no way having mountain ash in your body and then getting the bite isn't supposed to kill you, and then he has Scott force Derek to bite Gerard. Deaton knows in the Hale family the bite is a gift. Deaton has to know the trauma Derek went through at only 15 years old with Paige, and yet Deaton still didn't even try to get Derek in on the plan! Which when it comes to the evil Argents, Derek would have done it willingly to defeat them. There was no need to take Derek's bodily autonomy away.

I know a lot of us hate that Scott forced Derek to bite Gerard, but after more rewatching and thinking, I realized that Deaton came up with this plan. Deaton chose to keep Derek in the dark about it. Deaton had Scott force Derek to bite Gerard. This is honestly more on Deaton, the adult, than it is Scott. Deaton was like a father figure to Scott and he trusted him completely and would do whatever was asked of him.

That's pretty fucked up for someone who promised the now dead alpha and mother of Derek, he would help and look after Derek. Deaton did Derek real dirty.

[illiterateaffairs]

a simple favor | stiles x reader

masterlist | next

pairing: stiles stilinski x f!reader (enemy/witch)

word count: 7,120

warnings: language, banter, minor blood, allusions to sex *gasp* but no smut (sorry!)

summary: despite being self-proclaimed "enemies", you manage to drag stiles to your house for help with a spell...and maybe more.

author's note: hi friends! hope everyone is doing as well as they can be, and hope i can offer up a small distraction. i'm back with another witch!reader x stiles fic but this exists in a universe in which you are a "bad guy" and stiles can't stand you...for now ;) more deets at the end! also please just roll with me on any witch stuff idk if anything is accurate to witch lore, i feel as if with magic the rules are made up anyway so i'm doing what i want :)

“Hi!”

“AH- Jesus, what the hell are you doing here?” Stiles jumps before his face contorted in annoyance. 

He was on his way to pick up Scott. For some god forsaken reason his best friend wanted to get a tattoo before they started junior year and Stiles was meant to “supervise”. However, just as Stiles hops into the driver’s seat of his jeep, he’s greeted in the passenger seat by you. 

And you may or may not be Stiles’s least favorite person in the world. 

“I was waiting for you,” you state, point blankly like it was normal for you to have broken into his car. 

Stiles rolls his eyes, “God, do I want to know why?”

“Doubtful,” you sigh, turning in the seat to start putting on the seatbelt, “You should probably start driving.”

Stiles slowly narrows his eyes, “Why?”

“I need your help with a spell.”

“My help? What makes you think I’m going to help you?”

“Because you know I could kill you with the snap of my fingers.” you roll your head in his direction with a pointed look, “Besides, you owe me.”

Oh yeah. Because you saved his life this past spring when Gerard Argent kidnapped him after his lacrosse game. 

Stiles inwardly groans. You had a point. He had a feeling though no matter how many favors he paid you, you’d never let that go. 

You may have saved his life, but the thing was, to him and his friends you were still the “bad guy”. You were still the same witch that pretended to befriend him and Scott when Scott first became a werewolf, just for them to find out you were playing them to help Peter, who had enlisted your help to regain his strength and heal from the Hale fire. Stiles had barely tolerated you since the day you met, but after that, any ounce of trust and respect he had for you vanished. 

From that point on, Stiles decided he hated you. And despite defeating Peter, your presence loomed. For some reason, Derek leaned on you when he was building his pack of betas, giving Stiles more reason to despise you. But shortly after that, out of nowhere, Scott sought your help to try to stop Jackson as the Kanima and figure out who was controlling him. There was a brief moment where Stiles thought you could become an ally but admittedly he fucked that up when Peter came back from the dead and he jumped to the conclusion that you, once again, aided and abetted him. Turns out, in fact, he was wrong, and it was actually Lydia - his hopeless crush for nearly a decade - and he had accused and berated you for nothing. So any shot at you guys finding common ground was dead in the water. And you had decided to be petty and align yourself with the Argents just to piss him off. 

He hadn’t seen you since that night. He’d heard off hand from Isaac who’d heard from Derek you were spending the summer on the East Coast, doing some witch training or coven bonding shit with your family. 

That was until right now, in the front seat of his jeep.

“Scott is waiting for me.” Stiles finally responds; a half-hearted attempt to get you to go away.

You make a face, “Scott can go one night without being codependent.”

Stiles rolls his eyes, but he finds himself starting the engine. “Where are we going?”

“My house.” 

“You’re taking me to your lair?”

“Ha ha.”

“I don’t even know where you live.” 

“I’ll give you directions as we go. It's just right on the outskirts of the preserve.” 

“You live in the woods?”

“Just drive.”

Stiles should question how quickly he concedes but there is in fact the possibility of you hexing him or something. Which you’ve yet to do in any serious or fatal way. But another part of him is admittedly curious; to know what exactly you want, to see how you actually live. 

From the little information he’s learned about you the past year, he knows you live with your aunt and were home schooled up until recently when you enrolled in Beacon Hills High during the winter semester. But other than that, you were just the mysterious witch he hardly knew anything about. Aside from knowing you were a pain in his ass and someone he’s hesitant to trust. 

But he thinks he can survive one evening with you. 

The drive is quiet with just you providing simple directions. At one point he tries to make a feeble attempt at small talk, but you instantly lunge forward to turn on the radio. 

You turn to look at him in disbelief when the channel that’s on is the police scanner he rigged up. He shrugs sheepishly before you shake your head and turn the dial to some indie station. 

Stiles puckers his lips and nods as soft music fills the car. “Arctic Monkeys, nice-”

“Turn left at the stop sign.”

“Right.”

You turn to him with an amused look. “You don’t know how to act when we’re not at each other’s throats.”

Stiles scoffs, “Can you blame me? I barely think of you as a real person half the time, I don’t know what to say to you.”

You chuckle as you stare out the window, “Well we’re almost there.”

“What kind of spell do you need my help with anyway? And why me?”

“Because you’re a human.”

“Okay…?”

“And I need your blood.”

“Oh great.”

“It’s a spell to make a protection amulet. So I can wear it and not be found by other witches.” 

“And why do you need that?”

“Now that is none of your business.” You sigh, unbuckling your seatbelt, “And we’re here.”

Stiles observes the road they’re coming to the end of. Your house is indeed at the edge of the woods: a modest victorian-gothic style home hidden by trees. 

“I didn’t even know there were houses out here.”

“Not many,” you reply as the two of you hop out of the jeep. 

Stiles glances between you and his phone as you lead him to the front door, also texting Scott that he’ll need a raincheck on the tattoo adventure and he’ll explain later. 

“Is your aunt home?”

“Nope, she’ll be gone until late.” You answer, unlocking the door for you both to enter. 

Stiles takes in what he can from the foyer. He can’t get a full view of the space but he can definitely tell witches live here. The living room is lined with wooden bookshelves and candles and trinkets. He doesn’t have much time to observe when he watches you head for the staircase. 

“Um, where are we going exactly?”

“My room,” You call without turning around.

“Woah,” Stiles huffs nervously, “We’re doing this in your bedroom?”

“Don’t get too excited Stilinski, you’re here for business not pleasure.”

Stiles is grateful you still haven’t bothered turning around to look at him, because he feels his face heat up as he finally follows you up the stairs.

No surprise, your room also fits right in with the aesthetic of the house. Moody colors, wooden bed posts, and candles on every surface. He watches you flick your wrist and every candle lights up, casting a warm glow around the room. It's the first time he’s thought your powers were cool, but he’d never admit that out loud.

“Is this the lair you were expecting?” you ask, turning around to face him while standing in front of your desk, which is littered with books, potion bottles, and a large pot. 

Stiles shrugs, “It’s a little underwhelming.”

“Were you expecting me to live in an underground dungeon?”

“Something like that.”

You hum and turn back to face your desk, taking stock of the potion ingredients on hand.

Stiles wanders over to stand beside you, his hands in his pockets. “So explain to me what you mean by needing my blood.”

You pick up a necklace from your desk: a silver chain with an empty vial hanging on it. “I’m essentially making a potion to put in here. And if I wear it, it will make it harder for witches searching for me to track me or my magic. And human blood is on the recipe.”

“But why me?”

“I told you, because you’re human. Not a werewolf or a witch; a human. And humans have the purest form of blood. It's basically the secret ingredient.”

Stiles rolls his eyes at your nonchalance. “Okay I get that I guess, but why me? Couldn’t you have found some other schmuck to help you? Or have you scared off every other person in Beacon Hills with your shining personality.”

You turn to Stiles with a tight smirk, “As you may know, not many people are even aware that the supernatural is real. I know you do, and unfortunately you’re my best option. Allison is still in France from what I’ve gathered, Lydia is something but I haven’t quite figured that out yet, and using my aunt would require me having to explain what I’m doing and why. So you’re it buddy.”

“Oh so I’m literally your last choice. Boy am I honored.”

“You should be.”

“Wait, do you mean your aunt isn’t a witch like you?”

“Nope,” you shake your head, focusing back on the bottles on your desk, starting to add ingredients to the pot. “She’s not even technically my aunt. She was a family friend that took me in when I was young.”

“Why? What happened to your parents?”

You swallow, “You’re nosy.”

“Fine don’t tell me, but I think it's fair I get a little information since I’m the one helping you.”

“You’re the one who owes me, remember?”

“Yeah but it sounds like you can’t complete this spell without me and it seems pretty important so…thinking that gives me some leverage.”

You glance over at him with a glare and Stiles shoots you an innocent smile that makes you want to wipe it off his face. 

You let out a deep breath, “My parents fled to god knows where when I was five. Apparently, my family has a centuries long feud with another coven and they’d evaded them for years until then. They decided leaving me with Jules was better for my safety. So I’ve been in Beacon Hills ever since. I actually didn’t know most of that until this summer. I sort of…had a run in with a member of that coven without realizing and now I’m afraid they’re going to find me here. Hence the protection amulet we’re making. Is that enough background information for you?”

Stiles raises his eyebrows as he absorbs everything. “Wow that’s…heavy. There’s some witch coven out there that's been trying to kill your family for centuries. No wonder you’re the way that you are.”

I let out an unamused huff as I add the last of the pre-prepared ingredients. 

“Wait, is that unicorn dust- are unicorns real?”

I smirk as I pour it in, “Like I’d give away that information to you for free.”

I bite back a laugh as Stiles mutters dammit. 

Turning back to him, I hold up a tiny needle. “Your turn.”

Stiles’ eyes widen briefly, holding up his hands as he steps back from you, “Woah, woah, be careful with that thing.”

You scoff, “Stiles, it's a sewing needle.”

“Well, I still haven’t completely agreed to this. How do I know you’re not tricking me into draining all of my blood?”

You roll your eyes, “Stiles I just need one drop. And then you’re free to go off on your date with Scott.”

Stiles rolls his eyes this time.

I try to fix him with a genuine look for the first time in the months we’ve known each other. “Come on. Haven’t I made it clear enough that this is important to me? I seriously would not have brought you here if it wasn’t. Don’t make me beg.”

“I’d kind of like to see-”

“Reminder, I can kill you.”

“Alright,” he groans, “Let’s just get this over with. Did I mention I hate needles?”

“Aw poor baby’s scared of a tiny needle,” you fake pout.

“Oh my god shut up, like you’re not afraid of anything.”

“Yeah, I’m afraid of admitting something embarrassing like that.”

“Okay, just stab me already.”

You chuckle and take another step closer to him, holding out your left hand. Stiles takes a deep breath and apprehensively places his hand upwards into yours, and you gently hold the tip of his pointer finger. Stiles glances around the room, wanting to look anywhere but you pricking him with the needle, as minor as it is. 

“Jesus, I can feel your pulse, you need to calm down.” you comment. 

“Sorry that I’m a generally anxious person.”

“Yeah I gathered that over the last year from the fact that you literally never stop talking,” you snicker, “Have you always been like this?”

“As long as I can remember.”

“And it doesn’t drive Scott crazy?”

“Well, I think Scott, like most sane people, finds it endearing.” 

“Oh. Does Lydia find your constant yammering endearing?” 

“Woah, okay, there’s no need to bring her into this,” Stiles sighs rubbing his head, “Can you just prick me?”

“I already did,” I reply, making Stiles whip his head back, staring at his finger between yours, and sure enough, a red drop of blood was already forming. 

“When did you…” Stiles whispers.

I shrug, dropping the needle into a bin beside my desk. “I kept you distracted.”

Stiles watches you quietly, his lips slightly parted in disbelief, while you guide his hand over the pot and gently squeeze his finger so three drops of his blood fall into the potion with a hiss. Stiles grimaces at the pressure but it's not as bad as he thought. He’s trying to get over the fact that you tried to make this a little less painful for him by pricking him with the needle while he wasn’t thinking about it. It was surprisingly…thoughtful?

“There, the final touch,” you murmur. You turn back to face him, his hand still in yours.

“Great. Do you happen to have a bandaid for the patient?” He asks. 

“No need,” I reply, grabbing a small piece of gauze from the table and placing it over his finger to stop the blood. 

Stiles once again watches you carefully. As you apply the pressure to his finger, he takes note of the way you bite your lip while you concentrate. After a few more quiet moments, you toss the piece of gauze away and gently press your thumb into his pointer finger and close your eyes, murmuring something under your breath. Once you open your eyes, you look back down at his finger and suddenly there is no puncture wound. 

“There, good as new.” 

You finally look back up at him - his face closer to yours than you remember - and he’s still staring at you silently. 

“What? Were you expecting me to kiss it better?”

Stiles shakes his head, snapping out of his stupor. “Wha- no! No. Just…not used to you using your powers for good.”

I shake my head and finally release his hand, turning back to the pot and start mixing it all together. 

Stiles clears his throat and glances over your shoulder. “So what now? You mix everything together in the pot and boom, you’re good to go?”

“Cauldron,” you correct, “And I also have to pour it into the vial and cast an incantation to activate it.”

Stiles nods, genuinely intrigued by the process. He watches you quietly mix everything for another minute or so, before you reach for the tiny vial, and then you basically ladle an ounce of it into the small tube.”

“Wow, that’s a lot of potion you’re not using. Do witches care about waste?”

I fix Stiles with a hard look and he holds up his hands in surrender. He continues watching you close your hand around the vial tightly and hold it to your chest, once again quietly reciting an incantation. Stiles is almost certain the words you are saying are in Latin, and again, he’d never admit it to anyone, but he was kind of impressed. 

When you are finished, you open your hand and look down to study the vial. From over your shoulder, Stiles sees the vial now has a slight green glow to it. 

“Assuming it worked?” Stiles comments.

You shrug, “I guess the only way to truly find out if it didn’t is if one of those witches show up here.”

Stiles nods and then proceeds to stand there and watch you struggle to get the chain clasped around your neck. 

He snorts, “What, is there no spell to put on a necklace?”

You roll your eyes, “Shut up.”

He can’t help but chuckle as he stands up straighter. “Look, do you- I mean, would you want…I could..”

You groan, tired of listening to him ramble, “What?”

“I could help you, you know!” Stiles exclaims in annoyance. “God I don’t even know why I offer.”

You frown, too stubborn to stop trying but also too frustrated to keep going. Sighing, you remove your hands from around your neck and forcefully place it in his hands, “It's one of those stupid, teeny tiny clasps that aren’t meant for human sized fingers.”

Stiles chuckles as he takes each end of the necklace into his hands, while you turn around and move your hair out of the way. “Are you saying you know of non-human fingers that handle necklaces because if so I’m crossing my fingers for a tiny mouse because that would be adorable.”

You bite back a smile, thankful you’re not facing him, “Shut up.”

Stiles keeps chuckling to himself as he brings the necklace around your neck, and carefully works to clasp it. He definitely also doesn’t use the time to inhale your scent and start to wonder if you use some kind of fragrance or if witches have a naturally alluring smell. 

As you impatiently hold your hair and try not to think about the cramp forming in your arm, you also definitely aren’t thinking about the feeling of his warm breath on the back of your neck and praying he doesn’t see any goosebumps form on your skin. 

“There,” Stiles whispers unintentionally soft, making him clear his throat in surprise, taking a steep step back, “All done.”

You let out a quiet sigh of relief, dropping your hair and turning around. “Thanks. For the assist and the blood donation.”

Stiles snorts with a nod, “Yeah.”

I look down at the amulet I created and gently hold it in my hands, “Seriously though. You know I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important. So…thank you.”

Stiles swallows and nods firmly, a little unsettled by the sincerity of the last few minutes, “...You’re welcome.”

You nod as well, unsure of where to go from here. “Well, I guess now your services are no longer needed and you are free to go, and we are free to proceed with business as usual; only speaking when we see each other against our will.”

Stiles huffs, crossing his arms, “What if I want to stay a little longer?”

You raise your eyebrows, “Why?”

“I have a few more questions.”

“Haven’t I told you enough?”

“I think I’m entitled to some more information,” Before you retort, he barrels on, “Look if some evil coven could potentially be invading Beacon Hills - ideally not since that spell should prevent that from happening, so you say - I think I have the right to know more about what's going on so I can be prepared for it.”

“And how exactly will you, Stiles Stilinski, prepare for that?”

“By…telling Scott…”

You snort and nod. Well fair enough I guess. “What else do you want to know?”

“How dangerous are we talking? Like, how badly do these people want you dead?” 

You shrug, “I’ve only heard stories about how the feud originated. Supposedly, my family at some point in time, did something to steal powers from this other family.”

“Well it sounds like you guys are the bad guys in this scenario. Which tracks knowing you.”

“Well I’m pretty sure they did it in retaliation to them killing someone in my family in cold blood.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh. So this thing goes back generations but I’m pretty sure something must have happened between my mom and this woman from that coven. I don’t know what, but she in particular has a vendetta against her and our family.”

“Is she the witch you had a run in with this summer?”

“No,” you frown looking down, “It was her son.” 

Stiles’s eyebrows raise, “Oh. And did he immediately try to kill you with some spell at first sight?”

I shake my head, “Nope. He just…pretended to be someone else to gain my trust and subsequently asked me out just for me to find out none of it was real and he was trying to get to my magic the whole time.”

Stiles widens his eyes with each new piece of information, his stomach dropping as he learns that this guy used and manipulated you. Yeah you definitely weren’t the bad guy in this scenario. 

“So, fun summer for me. How was yours?” You ask looking back up at him with a blank look on your face.

Stiles ignores your attempt to diffuse the conversation. “So you were seeing this guy all summer thinking he was some innocent…fling…and the whole time he was actually plotting to, what, kill you? Take your powers?”

“Something like that,” You shrug, “I didn’t stick around long enough to find out the end game with that one.”

“How did he even track you down in the first place if you’ve been hiding away here your whole life.”

“Apparently they’ve been biding time in Salem, hoping one day I’d find my way there to train with other witches. And I didn’t even know there were people to look out for until a few days ago, when I was talking to another witch I had met, who recognized his mom in a picture. I left on the spot and haven’t seen him since.”

“Did you tell him where you were from?”

“Nope, was trying to go for the whole, casual, mysterious summer fling thing.” you chuckle humorlessly. “That worked out so well for me.”

Stiles sighs, “So he has no idea where to look for you, and that amulet should keep him from getting any hints.”

“Yup.”

“And after all this…your parents are still out there hiding from them, too?” 

You nod, looking down again, “Yeah…sometimes I wonder if they’re even still alive.”

Stiles frowns, “Jesus…now I’m almost sorry for…”

“No, no,” You shake your head, your face twisting in discomfort. “Don’t do that. This isn't what we do. You don’t feel sorry for me. You despise me. And honestly I prefer that version of us, I can’t stand the thought of you sympathizing with me.”

“Okay, okay,” Stiles holds his hands up, “I get it. You know maybe I’m not sorry, because a fucked up childhood doesn’t excuse the shit you did to us last year with Peter, and the generally annoying shit you’ve done since.”

You make a face but don’t argue with him.

Stiles continues staring you down, with an unfamiliar look on his face. “But…that shit that guy pulled on you this summer…even you don’t deserve to be taken advantage of like that.”

Your eyes slowly revert back to looking at his face, trying not to give away how vulnerable you felt sharing that information; not to mention how vulnerable you were this summer just to have that blow up in your face. You shift slightly, still uncomfortable with the atmosphere surrounding you two right now. You cross your arms tightly across your chest. 

“Thanks…”

The two of you let the moment hang in the air for another few seconds before you clear your throat, not being able to stand the sincerity any longer.

“Well I guess next time I try to have a casual fling, I shouldn’t do it with a stranger I knew for all of a day before going out with him.”

Stiles chuckles dryly, “Guess not. Maybe you’d be better off getting to know a guy for a while first. If you can keep one around long enough without driving them up the wall.”

“Ha ha. Because you’re the picture of a guy with a successful love life. Remind me of the last time Lydia gave you a second look?”

Stiles glares at you, as he starts to sputter, “She…was looking at me when I was playing in that lacrosse game.”

“Oh so over three months ago? Wow you’re making huge strides.”

“Look, I’m playing the long game alright?” 

I shake my head, “God, I don’t know why you even bother.”

Stiles' jaw teeters open and closed, “What? Is it that out of the realm of possibility that she could ever like me?”

“No, I just meant you could do better.”

Stiles stutters but no words immediately form in response to that. He stares at you blankly for a few beats. “I can do better? Me? Can do better than Lydia Martin?”

You roll your eyes, “You say that like she’s God's gift to this Earth.”

“Yeah, well…she’s still nice - sometimes - and highly intelligent, not to mention gorgeous.”

“Stiles, I’m not trying to disparage your precious Lydia, I just think you could do better than someone who doesn’t give you the time of day.”

“What…What do you mean?”

“Well for one it's kind of pathetic you’ve been hung up on her for so long with no reciprocation whatsoever.”

“Okay, I wouldn’t say-”

“And second, I don’t understand why a guy like you can’t find a girl who actually likes him back.”

“Well you say that like I’ve got a parade of girls waiting in line to date me.”

You shrug, “Trust me, there are some.”

Stiles scoffs, “Yeah right.”

“I think you're underestimating how many girls just want a sweet guy who will treat them well with a moderately nice face.” 

Stiles shifts awkwardly, “Is that your type?”

“My tastes are a little more refined than that.”

“Well how do you know most girls see me that way?”

“Because objectively speaking, you do have a moderately nice face. Maybe even a step above that. And look at you, you grew your hair out this summer. Do that to impress Lydia?”

Stiles flushes, “Well not just…”

“Because I’m sure it will work on plenty of other girls when they see you at school next week.”

Stiles lets out a deep breath, looking at you curiously, “Why are you saying all this?”

You uncross your arms and sigh, taking a step towards him, “Look I’m just stating facts, and maybe I can spare you a compliment since you helped me out tonight. You deserve better than waiting for someone who may never come around. And maybe, who knows, I’m wrong and one day Lydia will come to her senses and see what's right there in front of her. But don’t waste all your time doing nothing. You could at least have fun in the meantime. And I’m sure there are plenty of girls who would jump at the chance.”

You give Stiles’ shoulder what should be a supportive squeeze, but because it's the two of you it feels wrong. You awkwardly lift your hand and pat him a couple times before retracting your arm all together.

Stiles stares at you, once again in awe, confused why you’re being so civil with him…let alone…kind? His eyes hone in on the way your nose scrunches up when you instantly regret touching his shoulder, and the way your lip curves up in amusement as you look back up at him. Your eyes have a warm glow amidst the candles lighting up your room. And he’s once again in close enough proximity to you to inhale your scent; a mix of vanilla, berries, and amber. 

Yeah it definitely must be a witch thing, because he somehow finds himself being drawn closer to you. And before he knows it, he’s leaning completely in and kissing you. 

It's a rare occurrence for you to be taken by surprise, but you do jump slightly when his lips touch yours. He did it so fast you didn’t even have a chance to process it, let alone prevent it from happening. You don’t immediately kiss back but you don’t immediately pull away either, chalking it up to the shock. 

Stiles very quickly realizes what he’s doing and the fact that you’re not reciprocating as he pulls away slightly to take in your full reaction.

You narrow your eyes at him slightly, “I didn’t mean me.” 

Stiles’ eyes widen and his lips part, once again struggling to form words as he starts to pull back.

For some reason you’ll probably never understand, you instinctively reach out to hold his arms to keep him in place. He looks at your hands and then back to your face curiously. 

You quietly breathe out, “I also didn’t say to stop.”

Stiles breath hitches, his lips curving up just slightly before he dives towards your lips again. 

This time you instantly kiss back, pulling him closer by cupping either side of his face, as his arms come to snake around your waist. 

As the kiss becomes more intense, Stiles reluctantly pulls away for oxygen. 

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” he murmurs breathlessly, pressing his forehead against yours.

“You started it,” you muse, chasing after his lips.

He laughs softly, letting you kiss him deeply another few minutes before he gently caresses your face, pulling away.

“And I don’t hate what we’re doing but it's also very out of character. For both of us.”

“To make out with a hot person?”

“No,” Stiles sighs, but can’t fight the blood rushing to his cheeks, “I mean making out with each other. Honestly, this whole night has been out of character. We normally can’t stomach being in each other’s vicinity for more than five minutes.”

“Well if you haven’t noticed, this activity doesn’t require a whole lot of talking so I’m finding it easier to tolerate you.” 

You watch Stiles roll his eyes, trying to rationalize what’s happening between you two. So you take a deep breath.

“Look, we’re not going to suddenly stop despising each other but there’s nothing wrong with two consenting people having a little fun. And you know…probably never speaking about it again.”

Stiles shifts the weight between his feet, becoming overwhelmed by the situation and the possibilities of where it could go; possibilities that both scare and excite him. And he can’t figure out what emotion is winning out. 

“This probably won’t come as a shock to you,” Stiles speaks up again quietly, not meeting your eyes, “But I’ve never really…been with a girl…like this.”

The corner of your lips curl up. It wasn’t new information, but there was something about seeing this boy who usually goes toe to toe in insults with you be so open and honest with you.

You place your hands over his where they still rest on either side of your face. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. We can go as far as you want. Or we can stop now and pretend like this never happened. You are more than welcome to go.”

“I don’t think I want to go,” Stiles whispers hoarsely.

“Then don’t go,” You whisper back, leaning closer again.

“You’d really want to do this too?”

“Yes-”

“Because I know why I want to but why do you want to? After the guy you were with this summer I would have thought you’d be more…selective.”

“Oh that's exactly what I’m doing.”

“And you want to be with me? Why?”

“Because unlike the last guy, I know what I’m getting with you Stiles,” You state simply, “You’re a good guy. This has no chance of going anywhere. Absolutely no feelings whatsoever to get in the way. It’s perfect.”

Stiles stares at you, taking in your expression for any sign of uneasiness or lies. But he can tell you’re dead serious. His skin starts to burn in anticipation. 

“So we’re doing this,” He says softly, somewhere between a question or a statement. 

“I’m in if you’re in.”

“We do this once and we never talk about it again.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“And no one, and I mean no one finds out about this. I mean it, you can’t tell anyone.”

You scoff, “Trust me, I plan to take this to the grave. You should be more concerned with yourself. I can’t see you going five minutes without squealing to Scott that you’ve finally seen a girl naked.”

Stiles closes his eyes and groans, praying you can’t see him blush again. He also can’t even process the fact that he is indeed about to see a girl naked.

After a moment, Stiles finally says, “I don’t have to tell Scott everything.”

“Okay, if you really believe that.” He rolls his eyes, making you chuckle. “So are you game, Stilinski?”

Stiles’ eyes flit across your face, before settling back on your lips. “Fuck it.”

He kisses you deeply and the two of you tug at each other like your bodies are never close enough. Your hands wander over his body until they end up at the buttons of his flannel, and you haphazardly start to undo them before he pulls away briefly to help you get it off of him. He shivers as your cold fingertips trace the contours of his chest and stomach, but he doesn’t get a chance to linger on the feeling as you kiss him again. He takes his turn to pull off your jacket, before sliding his fingers under the hem of your shirt, which you help him maneuver over your head. You once again only let him have a few seconds to take in your exposed skin, only your bra separating you two from complete skin to skin contact, before you’re pulling him back to you again.

“Do you have…” you mutter against his skin as you start to kiss down his jaw and neck, “Protection?”

Stiles’ stomach twists with nerves and excitement as he nods. “Yeah, I have a condom in my wallet.”

You smile against his skin, trailing down to his collarbone, “Been hoping one day Lydia would want to jump your bones?”

Stiles groans, tangling his fingers into your hair, “God, shut up.”

You chuckle darkly before gently pushing against his chest so you can move onto your bed. 

Time passes in a hazy blur as you and Stiles finish undressing each other between sloppy and heated kisses. You try to go at a moderate pace with him, despite your own eagerness. To your pleasant surprise, Stiles is a quick learner as you talk him through how to touch you and make you feel good. And he makes you feel very good. And despite his own timidness and learning curve, he is very attentive to your needs as well as your comfort levels, constantly checking in and making sure you’re okay. 

You’re more than okay by the time you’re done, the two of you collapsing back onto the bed, sweaty and panting.

“Holy shit,” he breathes out staring at the ceiling. 

You smirk, pulling the sheet up to cover yourself, “Yup.”

You lay in silence for a few moments as you catch your breaths before Stiles speaks again.

“I hope tonight makes us even, because I think that counts as two additional favors,” He says teasingly, but when you don’t immediately respond, his head turns to you quickly, “You finished both times right?”

You chuckle softly and nod, turning your head towards him as well, “I did.”

“Good,” he sighs in relief, “I did, too.”

“I know you did.”

Stiles rolls his eyes but laughs softly, “Right.”

“And I’d say I was the one doing the favor,” You muse, “Now the next time you find a girl willing to sleep with you, you’ve got some tricks up your sleeve.”

He huffs with a nod, “I guess you’re right.” Another few moments of silence pass between you when Stiles looks at you again, and asks softly, “But seriously, it was good for you?”

You roll your eyes, “Yes.”

“Like, you’re not just saying that to make me feel better?”

“When have I ever worried about preserving your feelings? Trust me, if it was bad or you were doing something wrong I would have told you.”

“Yeah I guess that’s true,” he sighs. Another beat. “But like on a scale of one to ten?”

“Stiles!”

“I know, I know.” he regresses. “Can I ask for real though - and full permission to punch me if this is insensitive - but compared to the last guy…was I better?”

He watches you stare at him blankly for a few seconds before he starts to back pedal. “Probably not right? He was probably way more experienced even if he..”

“This was better.” 

He turns to you again in surprise. 

“You were better.”

Stiles stutters, “R-really?”

You nod, “You’re not an asshole who only thinks about himself. Don’t ever lose that quality.”

Stiles smiles softly, his cheeks warming up again. 

“Seriously, it was good. Great even,” You continue, “If that’s what you’re like with me, I can’t imagine how good it would be with a girl you actually like.”

That last statement was like a bucket of cold water splashing over him. Right. You guys hated each other. And you were still the same girl who made his life inexplicably harder this year. But those things were easy to forget while he stared at you, your messy hair splayed across your pillow, your bare skin lit by the soft glow of the candles in your room, with a few noticeable marks across your collarbone that he was responsible for. 

But this would be the first and last time this ever happened. And he will probably have complicated feelings about it for the foreseeable future, knowing the memory of his first time will always connect him to you. But he surprisingly feels less guilty than he would have thought.

“I should probably go,” He whispers after another few seconds of taking her and the moment in. Part of him wishes he didn’t have to leave at all and continue living in this bubble of false reality and denial. But he thinks his brain takes over in an act of self preservation to get out of there before he gets in too deep. 

“Yeah, you probably should,” You whisper back, taking a deep breath. 

He watches you sit up, dragging the sheet covering you up with you. He sucks in a breath as you grab a dark purple robe off of your bedpost and slip it on, covering the rest of your body and taking the image away from him. With that, he also forces himself up, locating his boxers and jeans on the floor and pulling them on. 

You circle your bed as he starts to pull on his flannel again. He feels nervous under your gaze, and about how to act right now, making him fumble with the buttons. Without a word, you reach out and slowly and quietly help him finish buttoning it. He takes this one last opportunity to watch your face at this level of proximity, knowing he’ll probably never have the chance to do that again. 

As you finish the top button, you look up at his gaze still laser focused on you, and for some reason he doesn’t feel compelled to look away. 

“Thank you for tonight,” You say softly with a small smirk playing at your lips, “Thought I just needed a protection spell after the summer I had, but I guess I needed that as well.”

Stiles feels himself smirk too, “Happy to be of service to both.”

You slide your hands across his chest, smoothing out his shirt before taking a deep breath and step back. 

“So, business as usual? I’m sure we’ll run into each other again once Scott gets himself into some more supernatural shit, and we’ll be back at each other’s throats in no time.”

Stiles chuckles, “I look forward to it.”

You give him your version of a tiny genuine smile. “Do you need me to walk you out?”

He shakes his head, “I’m sure I can find my way.”

You nod, also taking in his appearance under the glow of the candles while you can. You decide to take the opportunity to close the distance between the two of you and kissing him chastely one last time. 

Stiles closes his eyes and reciprocates automatically, but the kiss is over before its even begun. He watches you pull away from him, unable to tear his eyes away from yours.

“Goodnight, Stiles,” you whisper before stepping away and walking around him towards your desk again to clean up.

With his back towards you now, he smiles to himself, huffing in disbelief at the night he’s had. 

“Goodnight,” He says back softly as he takes steps towards your door. He glances back at you one last time, before leaving and finding his way back downstairs and out your front door. 

Once he shut the door after sliding into the driver's seat, he lets out a long deep breath and rubs his face. Losing his virginity to his self-proclaimed mortal enemy was not on his bingo card for the night - or ever. But the more he sits with it, the more he’s weirdly pleased that it happened. Honestly, it was like best case scenario. Figuring out sex with someone he’s not trying to impress - well, to a certain degree - took some of the pressure off. And now he doesn't have to think about it anymore. Unfortunately, it was really good. Extremely good. Too good to just have been a one time thing, and part of him is disappointed there’s no chance of ever experiencing it again. 

It was for the best. The moment hell freezes over is when he’d have actual feelings past irritation and mild rage when it came to you. So he shakes his head, putting their night together behind him as he pulls out of your driveway.

Still in your bedroom, you lean against the wall watching him drive away from the window. You smile to yourself, having a sneaking feeling this wouldn’t be the last time the two of you do this. Stiles just didn’t know it yet.

author's note: dying to know what people think of this, not the type of stuff i usually write. firstly, sorry for the lack of steam, i've never written smut and not sure i ever will but hope it alluded to enough for yall. also again, took my witch idea and flipped it into an alternate universe where the reader is a lil evil. there are elements of the other pieces i'm writing that assumes similar lore/backstory for the witch, but in this version, you don't grow up as stiles & scott's bff, you're isolated leading to some villianous tendancies. i also know i hinted at a lot of back story with some pieces from seasons 1-2, with this ultimately taking place right before season 3. so i have some ideas of writing other parts that dive into some of those moments, plus more parts that come after this of course. so let me know what kind of stuff you're interested in seeing from evil!witch x stiles (evil being used pretty loosely) THANK YOU FOR READING!

[etirabys]

meandering post about reading Orson Scott Card again

I've been offline starting at 9pm every day (except once. I was drunk at karaoke and asked for anons at 8:30pm) for six weeks, with the result that in befuddled boredom two nights ago I picked up Orson Scott Card's Songmaster from the house bookshelf.

I read Ender's Game and three sequels when I was a teen thought the books were mid. Since those are OSC's best works I assumed he had nothing more interesting to offer me and didn't try more of him for fifteen years, but Songmaster was compelling enough that I immediately afterwards picked up The Memory of Earth, the first book of a pentalogy.

TMoE is extremely my jam: after humanity blows itself up on Earth, AIs monitor thriving human civilizations in the planets that survivors managed to escape to, and suppress any tech that enables large scale violence by exerting low key mind control via satellites. But forty million years pass, many of the satellites break down, and the AI needs help from humans to restore capabilities. Because as its control wanes, people are starting to e.g. conceive of airplanes or bombs again, and override the injunctions against entering military alliances more than two edges of connection away.

The AI is worshipped as a god all over the planet, but the fourteen year old protagonist that becomes one of the AI's agents tells the AI from the beginning that he'll break with it if its morality seems wrong to him. I like the fourteen year old – unlike Ender or Songmaster's protagonist (adult minds piloting ten year old bodies), he's a normal gifted kid who's unpopular 50% due to his ego and big mouth and 50% because he's socially inept and offends people even when he's trying to be nice.

Songmaster is also partly about a permanent solution to large-scale violence, albeit through one guy who establishes a monopoly on violence and sweeps in pax galactica. Both it and TMoE are preoccupied with the eradication of suffering from evil / human violence, which is closer to my resonant frequency than narratives about defeating particular people or ideologies. At the moment I can't think of any other book with such an insistent focus on the matter than T.H. White's The Once and Future King. It's hard to make a compelling story out of, and I don't think Songmaster really succeeds, but TMoE's premise is well suited to explore that. (I'm also enjoying the matriarchal culture where everyone is expected to have multiple serial-monogamous marriages.) After reading 70% of TMoE last night I wrote:

Usually when I read fiction there's a small part of me going, how can I use this as fodder for my own growth, how can I remix or improve or react against this, how do the author and I measure against each other? (If the quality and content are at an anti-sweet spot, the small part becomes quite large and I feel all teeth towards the author.) But on occasion I read something so close that the absence of that measuring-feeling is its own sensation – ego departs, or at least is split across two bodies. There's just amity and recognition

And it's pretty interesting to feel this way about Card for, well, the reasons.

(If you're familiar with Card drama none of the following will be new to you; I'm coming to it fresh so the rest of this post is me going "uh... wow")

I vaguely knew he was a homophobic Mormon who'd gotten into fights about gay stuff, but I couldn't tell from the Ender books I read. But in Songmaster his issues spring off the page in such a weird way. Every fifth Goodreads review of this book is "Card, u gay?" because, well,

(One review, possibly from a fellow Mormon, that went "Card, it's so sinful of you to be this gay in your novel". Why did he write this book that would predictably make everyone mad...)

it's full of gay male desire. The protagonist (Ansset) is approximately a castrato and characters notice him sexually a lot. The first and only time Ansset has sex it's with a Kinsey 4-5 male character he loves, who's married to a woman but has fallen in love with Ansset. It turns out the drugs Ansset took to prolong his singing career painfully and only-kinda-figuratively explode your balls when you have your first orgasm and you'll never feel sexual desire again. (You'd think his loving teachers would have warned him of that, but, whatever, they didn't.) The other guy is literally castrated in punishment for inadvertently torturing a highly valuable castrato. It's pretty bald: GAY SEX IS ALMOST IRRESISTIBLY TEMPTING BUT YOU SHOULDN'T DO IT.

(Sidenote: both Ansset and the guy's wife are very close and have a "there's enough love to go around" attitude about the gay sex initially, before they go "wait Josif is a SERIAL MONOGAMIST... he can only love one person at a time... the moment he had the gay sex his marriage was destroyed". It's funny in a mildly stupid way that Card would set up this parable of homosexuality destroying lives and a marriage but almost everyone involved is peacefully ready to sail into an open marriage. I guess it makes sense if you want to say very clearly that THE GAY PART IS THE BAD PART)

which is fascinating to me, because... why would you tell on yourself like that

(81k also told me secondhand of an essay? interview? where Card openly says "we have to stand against legalizing gay marriage because everyone will get gay married and society will collapse", so that's informing my read of Songmaster as well)

I am pretty dang open about my personal life online but if I had a lot of feelings I thought were disgusting and immoral I would not write a novel dripping with those feelings before pointedly castrating the leads for them. Especially if it wasn't relevant to the actually highbrow themes of (checks notes) winning over your adversaries with kindness and never relinquishing your monopoly on violence. I would be so so so so embarrassed to let this go to print, it's so psychologically transparent, what was he thinking

(Well, I assume he's a very different person with different social incentives. For all I know, people in his church went "hey Orson we read your book and it's clear that you're gay but signaling strongly that you won't give into the gay feelings, we're here for you, it was really brave of you to publish this".)

[sexualtensiongrowing21]

“You owe me.” “I owe you $20 not a day of pretending to date you to get him off your back.”

Isaac Lahey X Reader

TW; Mentions of physical abuse. 

Word Count: 819

Part two

You have looked in the locker room, the art room and outside in the quad and still can’t find him. You  woke up this morning, put on the cutest outfit you own and spent extra time on your hair and came up with the best plan.. There is no chance he will say no… Right? 

As you walk into the library you finally spot the messy mop of dirty blonde hair. 

“Isaac! Isaac!” You whisper shout as you walk over to where he is sitting in the ground leaning against one of the bookshelves. You don’t know why this wasn’t the first place you looked. This has always been a safe space for Isaac to come to when he needed to get away.

“Y/N! Y/N!” he whispers, shouts back successfully, mocking me with a cocky grin on his lips. 

Laughing, You walk over and drop my bag next to him and it’s a quiet thump. “I had the most perfect idea, and before you say ‘no’ just hear me out?” You ask with a pleading look on your face. Isaac eyes you suspiciously and slowly nods his head for you to continue. 

Isaac and you have been friends since we were six. Your moms were best friends and would force you two to hangout with each other all the time. Even when he thought girls had cooties. He has always been my favorite person and you did everything you could to protect him. When he would get picked on in school you would tell off anyone who was mean to him. When he would get hurt on the playground you would be the first one to help him clean and bandage his wounds. When his mom died and he started coming to school with bruises and cuts that he refused to explain to you, you made sure that your window was always cracked and unlocked for him to climb through.

He said he always felt safe when he was with you. And since you couldn’t do anything about his dad hurting him, you did the best thing you could think of. You were always there for him. He was your best friend after all. 

“So you know how Matt won’t leave me alone? How he asks me out every time he sees me?” You ask nervously while nibbling slightly on your lip. 

Still looking at you with suspicion he shakes his head yes. “Well I was thinking that maybe. You would pretend to be my boyfriend. Just for a day to get him off my back.” You rushed out. Anxious to see his reaction. 

He’s quiet for a moment, before looking at you like you’ve lost my mind. “Are you crazy? He will never believe that.” He laughs nervously. 

Turning towards him you put my hands together and begged the dirty blonde next to you. “Please Isaac. Please, please. I know this will work and you’re my best friend, who better to pretend to date than you?” 

He rolls his eyes “Why can't you ask Scott?” 

“It’s more believable if it’s you. I mean we’ve been best friends forever, half the school thinks there is something going on between us anyways.” You say with a roll of your eyes. 

It's true. Since Isaac and you have been friends for so long, everyone is always bothering you two about when you're going to start dating. It's not that you don't like Isaac that way. You do. You love him, and he has told you he loves you too. But you both agreed that you should stay friends. You are both too important for the other to lose. 

Isaac looks at you seriously. “I don’t think this is a good idea, Y/N.” 

“I really didn't want to do this… But you owe me Isaac Lahey.” His seriousness drops into a look of guilt.  

He did owe you. After he was turned by Derek, and after he accidentally attacked you, you stayed at Dereks with him for weeks, until he found his anchor. Which by the way he still hasn't told you what it is. 

He sighs in defeat. “I meant I owe you $20 not a day of pretending to date you to get him off your back.” Isaac has never been able to say no to your pouty face, and with everything you did for him in the past he grudgingly agrees. 

“Fine, I will help you. Just know that I think this is a horrible idea.” He states with a half smile. Your smile on the other hand is wide and excited. You throw your arms around him in excitement. “Thank you! Thank you!” you cheer, kissing his cheek. 

“Tomorrow, be ready!” You yell getting up and walking out of the library. As he watches you walk away all Isaac can think about is how screwed he is to fake date the love of his life.

*If you’re interested in being on my taglist, please let me know!*

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Masterlist

[topazy]

Blood moon

Pairing: Scott McCall x reader

Warnings: Swearing, smut

Chapter: 7.02

You step into the kitchen and drop the glass of orange juice from your hand as you jump backwards, startled by the figure leaning against the island in the middle of the room. So much for werewolf reflexes. Since the sleepover Wyatt was at got canceled, you had awkwardly suggested everyone regrouped at another location. As much as you cared for Lydia, you didn’t want your son near anything that was going on.

“Jesus McCall, haven’t you ever heard of knocking?” You huff, looking down at the sticky liquid spreading fast across the floor. You grab a handful of kitchen rolls and dab at it before the juice runs onto your cream carpet in the next room.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to- Sorry. I just wanted to see if you were okay,” Scott said. He sighed, noticing you were avoiding his gaze. “Are you okay?”

“I'm fine.”

Scott puffed out his cheeks, feeling defeated already. “I don’t usually ask when it comes to you and Isaac, but what’s going on? He left kind of abruptly.”

You re-enter the living room fidgeting with the silver band on your middle finger, the pad of your thumb feeling the small rubies on it. “Guys, I hate to do this, but Wyatt’s coming home, and I don’t want him around... whatever this is.”

Scott looks up at your alarm. “Why, what’s wrong?”

“He’s fine; his friend's mom just texted and said one of the kids started vomiting, so everyone’s gotta go.”

Isaac yanks his jacket from the back of the coat hanger. “I’ll go get him. Take him to the arcade or cinema.”

“He still needs to have his dinner.”

“Then I’ll take him for pizza first,” Isaac slams the front door behind him when he leaves the house.

You cock your head to the side, looking up at Scott, still irritated by your brother. “He’s just... he's got an issue with his girlfriend. Where did everyone else go?”

“The animal clinic.”

After all this time, no matter what changed throughout the years, Deaton’s vets was the safe place you and your friends gravitate towards whenever times are tough. A small smile creeps onto your face as you think about the times as teenagers when your pack would gather in the same place.

“What’s so funny?”

“I was just thinking how, after all this time, we still go to the same place for help.” You squeeze Scott’s shoulder. “Did I ever tell you I’m proud of you for becoming a vet?”

“Uhh, you have,” he chuckles. “But it means a lot coming from you, no matter how many times I hear it.”

“Are you staying here until Wyatt gets home?”

“Yeah,” he pulls his phone out of his pocket. “I’ll just let Stiles know I’ll catch up with them later.”

—

“Daddy!”

“Hey, little man.”

Smiling, Scott picks Wyatt up and kisses his cheek. “Where did Uncle Isaac take you?”

While your son fills his father in on all the fun games he played at the arcade, Isaac mumbles an apology as he walks by. He places a stuffed toy on the kitchen counter; it looks just like one I had as a girl. “I’m going to be out for the rest of the night,” he says. “I don’t know if you’ve seen it, but Stiles asked if someone who’s werewolf could spend the night in case he needs help with Lydia.”

“It’s probably for the best that someone is there for her. I think Scott was going to meet them at the vets.”

“Actually,” Scott walks over with Wyatt now sitting on his shoulders. “I was going to put this little monster to bed once he has showed me his new toys.”

Scott wasn’t outright asking, but from his tone, you knew it was a question. You smile, although he was a good dad. Scott never got to spend the same amount of time with your son as you did, which made him feel guilty. “Sure, but first he’s going for a bath.”

—

You yawn into the back of your hand, not wanting to interrupt Scott and Wyatt playing before bed. You curled up on the couch to watch a film. You’re starting to doze off when Scott comes back down the stairs and sits next to you, much to your surprise.

“Is he asleep already?”

“Yeah, probably a sugar crash.”

You reposition yourself on the couch so Scott has more space; the thick fluffy grey blanket covering your lap slides down at one side, revealing. Noticing, Scott pulls on the bottom of your nightgown, “cute.”

Your nightgown was light pink, silky, with little stars and moons on it.

“Don’t tease.”

Smirking, Scott lowers his head till your lips meet. At first the kiss is soft and gentle, but it quickly becomes heated. Feeling his hand on your bare thigh, your legs part, and Scott begins rubbing at the most sensitive spot through your underwear.

“Oh,” you slap your hand over your mouth to stop making noise.

Scott kisses your neck while sliding two of his fingers inside you, muffling his own groans. Just as you go to unzip his jeans, you open your eyes and notice the blinds had opened slightly and were now open, and something was outside looking in.

Abruptly, you push Scott’s hand away and jump to your feet. He stares at you alarmed, “Shit, did I hurt you?”

You shake your head, “There’s someone outside.”

“Keep an eye on the doors.” Without needing any further explanation, Scott sprints upstairs and then quickly runs back down with Wyatt in his arms. “Is it still there?”

You do your best to discreetly peek out of the window; at first you don’t see anything, but then you notice there’s a white mask left laying on the grass. “Not that I can see.”

He hands you Wyatt, who was still half asleep. “We gotta run for the car. Once we are inside, call Stiles and tell him we are going to the clinic, then call the police.”

You didn’t have time to ask questions, but something had scared the hell out of Scott as well.

[icarusredwings]

Team Leader.

A Worst wolverine's flashback fic.

Ft. Poolverine and a very confusing situationship. (COUGH scogan- mainly scogan COUGH)

~5k

Cw: Fightin n’ fuckin, internalized homophobia, prediscussed Cnc, Wrestling, Switching, Brat taming(?) Dominance play, Affair, pet play if you squint, rough feral floor sex, Handcuffs, cloth gags, degrading, no after care.. Logan just wanted a kiss.. angst

“Yeah.. Scott begged me to wear that suit..”

“Oh?” Wade asks, smirking as he leans over the table, watching as Logan takes another shot, honestly he's not sure why he just doesn't chug the bottle at this point. This was his second one for tonight, they were splurging after a particularly rough day, and of course, Wade was curious. And Logan was in the mood for reminiscing.

“What else did he do?”

“Well…there was this.. thing..”

___A very… very…long time ago___

Walking into the mansion, the team was pooped, costumes ripped, hair a mess, sweating to death, and ultimately…. defeated.

Cyclops, who had dust and dirt alike all over him, looking about as rugged as he'd ever get, clapped his hands.

“Alright gang, Good work out there.”

“Gang? What are we? Mystery incorporated?” Jubilee asks, who had cracked her sunglasses, lost an earring, Her jacket had tears in it and was already in a sassy mood from the failed mission.

He sighs. “Sure. If it makes you happy.”

“Does that make Jean Velma or Daphne?” Wolverine spoke up, covered in greasy sweat, his outfit practically in shambles. He had even lost a glove. Hank wouldn't like that. This was his 3rd one this month that has gone missing.

Cyclops pinched the bridge of his nose. “Logan, don't start..”

“Hey, I'm not the one calling us ‘gang’. Besides, that mission was shit, Scott and you know it.”

“I think that would make me Daphne.” Jean mumbled after some thought, Smiling a bit at the idea while Ororo groaned, heading up towards her room. She knew that they would start fighting any second and she was far too tired to deal with it. Oh well. Let the boys be boys. It made them happy to duke it out once in a while anyway.

“Jean, don't encourage them..” His posture was as if he just rolled his eyes. Not like anyone could see it though.

“I mean- We're both red heads, right? And if you're Fred, That makes me Daphne.” She explained, Logically of course, like always.

Logan smirked, putting a hand on his hip. “Yeah. You're pretty like her too, Red.”

Jean gave a small giggle, patting her boyfriend on the shoulder. “Alright. You two play nice.” She says “I'm going to check in with the Professor.”

He sighs, putting his hand on top of hers when patted. “Alright. Try not to make him too disappointed in us.”

“It's kind of hard to lie to a telepath but I'll do my best.” She agrees, starting to walk away.

Both men stared as she walked away. Scott gave a huff out of his nose, noticing. “Say, Jubes, does that make Logan the dog?” He asks as Logan growls. “I'm not a damn dog.”

Jubes blinked, looking back between the two and then to Jean down the hall. “I uh…I gotta shower before Hank clogs the drain with fur….Bye!” She says before running off, wanting to get a shower in before the boys got ugly.

Most times she would be up to watch a good fight, they've been at it for a week now, But today? She just wanted to be clean and maybe take a nap. One girl could only handle so many sparkles and fist fights.

“I'll take that as a yes. I'd say that you should shower too but wet dogs stink.” Scott muttered.

Grabbing his collar, Logan practically snarled in his face. “If you ever call me a dog again, Ill-”

“You'll what? Bite me? Last time I checked, dogs that bite get euthanized.” His hand came up to the sides of his head, as if threatening him.

Gritting his teeth, Logan let go, Crossing his arms.

“And besides if you haven't forgotten, Ascot boy, the guy got away. Who's fault is that? What kind of leader calls shots that get people killed?!”

“No one died, Logan! We're Xmen! We don't Kill people.” He said, making Logan point at him, the other hand in a fist.

“You lasered a whole building down! Dozens of people got injured!”

“Don't remind me! Do you think I like that on my conscious? We just need to get better. Train more.” Starting to walk away, he groans, shoulders dropping, saying this last line as if he's already thought about what he's done today and how he could have prevented it.

“What we need is a better leader.” Logan grumbled, causing him to turn around.

“What? Like you? Oh- Sure. Yeah. That'll go great. You can't lead this team Logan.” He says this as if it was a well known fact. As known as the ocean was blue like Wolverine's frozen glare.

“Yes I can! and I'd be a way better leader than you!” He snaps.

Eyeing him with what Logan could only assume was a glare, Scott scoffed. “Sure Scooby. You keep thinking that.” he goes to walk away again but Logan grabs him, turning him around as he holds him once again. Pulling him down to his level as he bared his teeth to him.

“Don't you ever call me that again. Who made you the boss anyway!? I can do what I want when I want. I don't remember signing a contract saying I'd obey a tightwad with his spandex up his ass!”

“The professor did! And if you have a problem with that you can take it up with him. Now get off of me!”

Shoving him away, He did let go, grunting some in displeasure seeing him actually walk away this time. So.. like a dog… he followed.

“Why don't you do it yourself.”

“What?”

“In the wild the strongest one is the leader and I know damn well that I'm bigger than you.”

Scott let out a laugh. “Ha! That's funny. Sure you're heavier than me but being a leader takes more than strength Logan. Even you should know that.”

“Are you saying you're stronger than me?”

“Maybe I am. Now move.”

Getting to his room, Scott turned, only for Logan to stand in front of it.

“Prove it.”

“What?”

“You heard me! Don't play stupid now! Prove it you coward!” He tells him.

Scott grunts, trying to find a way around him but couldn't. “Come on, you're being childish.”

“Then prove it! If you're such a good leader then why are you wussing out? Hm?”

“Logan! I'm not playing with you. Some of us have important stuff to do, move!”

Maybe it was the fact Logan was so slippery from the sweat. Maybe it was the fact that half their outfits were gone, lost somewhere in the city rubble. Maybe it was the fact that Scott knew he wouldn't go away until this was settled but he had gone to move him aside, only to be practically kicked through the door frame.

Falling onto his carpet, he grunted, sitting up on his hands.

“What the hell is wrong with you!?”

“I said prove it! And if I'm such a dog, It should be easy to show yer pack leader, right, Lasik?”

Scott glared, thinking for a minute. “Fine. But don't go crying to the Professor with your tail between your legs when I'm done with you.”

Kicking the door closed behind him, Logan smirked, unsheathing his claws. “Let's go, Pretty boy.”

So that's how we got here.

The majority of their costumes further ripped off, everything the two owned out in the open, wrestling to pin the other. Except it was more than that. The constant switching of positions and reluctant trade off of those in control.

Holding his hips back with an arm, and a hand around his throat, Logan kept the pace decent. He always did. Panting smirky huffs by his ear, Scott was trying to push him away, only for him to growl and nip his finger.

“Ouch-Logan! O-off!”

“I told you I'm stronger than you.”

“Stronger…Y-yes-” He started, Trying to keep standing up on his hands. The second he let his chest touch the floor he'd be done and he knew it. “But, This isn't the woods anymore pal!”

Attempting to pull the hand away from his neck, It only tightened, unsheathing those claws of his. “Going somewhere? You sure thought so huh?”

“Oh please! Like you'd have the balls-” a soft yip came from him as something hit his skin from behind. The blush once on his cheeks now spreads to his ears and throat like some kind of disease. One that unfortunately was incurable.

Smirking, The man scoffed. “You were saying?”

“Shut up.. god you're such a child. Let go!”

“Make me.” He growls, shifting his weight to pull him up, locking the arm around him and headlocked the other. Sure it was a bit tricky but seeing Scott squirm like this and willingly spread his knees wider made him feel successful in this battle of dominance.

Bouncing his hips up, A little giggle came from him as he reached an arm down, palming at him through the half pulled down briefs. “Where's those leadership skills now, bub? Hm?” Snarling against his skin was so fun, the temptation to sink his fangs into him, though he knew he wouldn't enjoy it, and explaining to Xavier why his star student had 4 massive holes in the side of his neck was NOT on his bucket list.

“Quit that. Don't you growl at me!” He says, trying to slip out of his grip but the more he tried the more Logan just held him tighter. God his hands were so well placed too, firmly keeping him in place to be bucked into like some kind of bitch.

Yeah well, Charles didn't raise no bitch. He raised a leader. Someone confident enough to understand the importance of the waiting game. How to deal with meat headed fools who gave their trust away far too easily when the entire world was in drought.

Closing his eyes, He tried to focus. Alright, think… Yeah that'll do. Leaning his head back onto his shoulder, letting out a few huffs, letting his arm sneak up behind his head. Gripping a fist full of hair, He let the other hand come to the arm that was holding him.

Leaning forward, he let himself fall a certain way that made his mouth fall open. “Logan..”

“Heh.. That wasn't so hard, was it?” He whispers, loosening his grip so he could put an arm forward on the floor. “See? I told you I was stronger than you.” He purrs with a sense of pride, becoming gentle with his touches, passionate even now that he thought Summers had submitted.

If we're being honest, he had no clue of this plan was going to work or not. Logan was right, he was stronger than him. That's always been one of his flaws. Despite how strong he truly was, how defined and well stretched his muscles were, Logan could throw him around like a raggedy ann doll, have his way with him however he wanted.

Scott swallowed, shaking his head. No. This was more than a test of strength and he knew so. He knew that Logan was trying to humiliate him. As easy as it would be to stay here and let him mate with him like a feral dog, he knew Logan would walk- No. Strut around the mansion all cocky and cause more problems amongst the team. It's just how he was.

Let him get away with it once? Shame on you. Because he wouldn't ever let you put him in his place a second time. He'd bring it up over and over again, brag and tease you constantly at every corner. That wouldn't be good for the team dynamic.

With a hiss through grit teeth, Scott quickly took hold of him with both hands, Throwing him over his shoulder, slamming his knees onto his forearms before he could try to scratch him.

“Yeah, You're right. That wasn't hard.” He smirks, turning back to look at the baffled face. Okay maybe trying to make a point while your ass was in front of his face wasn't the best plan but it worked didn't it?

Jumping up, he flipped him over, grabbing his arm as he sat on his back, his leg up on the other hand. Flexible fucker wasn't he?

“Now. Are you going to listen or do I have to prove it more?”

“Just because you got your leadership patch in boy scouts doesn't mea-” Gritting his teeth, He was jerked up onto a singular hand and his knees. You could tell that part of him had melted into such rough treatment, letting a couple of grunts escape as he closed his eyes, a small smirk on his face.

“What was that, short stack?” He asks, being sure to slam into him a way that makes his body jolt forward. “Losing your touch, Lo. Maybe stay off the syrup.” Logan turned to look at him with a snarl, glaring at the comment. Scott knew how he liked to sweeten his whiskey (and practically everything else) with Canada's delicacy.

“Oh, You're so fucking dead!”

Coming down the hall, Ororo was trying to comfort Jean about the mission. “It was hard on all of us, No? Just because you're a telepath doesn't mean you could have prevented it.” She smiles. “Yeah.. I hope the professor finds a foreseer soon. A little heads up would be nice.” The two giggle as Jean sighs. “I should go comfort Scott. He’s been really stressed out recently.” At first Ororo nodded, but getting closer to the door, This changed.

“Hey.. you know.. We should go get something from the city. Rouge took Jubilee so it would just be us sisters.” She grins, trying not to look so nervous about all of the grunts and muffled argument that was coming from the other side of the door.

Jean frowned. “Oh, They're fighting again… I really should-”

“Jeanie, Honey. Boys are just like that sometimes. You know how the lower species is. Always fighting like apes.” She put an arm around her shoulder, starting to lead her away with that innocent big sister's grin.

“Ha! Yeah I guess you're right. And it's like.. I'm not their mom right?”

“Exactly! You shouldn't have to keep them from fighting.”

“You're right. Gosh, Ro, you're such a good friend.”

Nodding, she glanced back at the door over her shoulder. “Oh, you have no idea.. Let's just hope they are finished by the time we return..”

The rug burn that Logan was getting on his cheek would be all worthwhile, especially like this? An arm put behind his back and a hand keeping his skull pressed against the carpet? He'd be a massive liar if he said this was new. Scott was always this way. You had to get him riled up just enough to take all that stress in his lower back and put it to good use, such as pounding Logan against the floor.

To smell his sweat, hear his mutters of passive agressive dirty talk, feel just how tight of a grip he had on his wrist, twisted just right so if he unsheathed those claws of his, they'd be going directly into his back.

Scott was clever like that. Such a teacher's pet. If he truly had wanted, Scott would be across the room by now, his face imprinted into the wall, but God did Logan love a quick witted idiot. He loved the tug of the fistful of hair.

He loved how confident he was afterwards, his chest puffed out and his mind clearer than ever. The private teasing he got from him in the halls, whispers of triumph and smart ass smirks directed at him whenever together. It made his stomach turn, his face heat and look away with his arms crossed to keep from his heart contained in the metal cage he's made for it.

“Not much to say now, Huh Logan? Not as tough as you thought?”

Letting out a little growl, it turned into a groan way quicker than he appreciated.

“What did I say about growling? God, you're so disobedient.”

A whine.

“Aw, don't tell me you've given up already? I thought wolves were stronger than that.”

“I-im not a wolf..”

“I don't know, Lo. You're sure acting like a pathetic pup.”

And there were those butterflies again, that shock that ran up his spine, smirking somewhat like an idiot as a snort of laughter escaped.

“There's a good boy. Maybe if you behaved like this more often we'd get along just fine.” He whispers, Sitting up as he lets go of his head and arm, now focusing on his hips.

All these thoughts were gradually getting beat out of him, replaced with newer, worse thoughts. He could feel himself going under in the sense that Logan could barely understand what was being said to him, hearing his voice in general was enough, even if the words slurred together into a quiet murmur of white noise that he enjoyed a little too much. He had to do something. Anything to get him out of his head before he wound up a drooling brain dead mess on the carpet.

Stretching his arms out, he let out a large groan as if signaling he was almost there, fully submitting under him.

“Shh. Someone might hear. Gotta get you a muzzle.” He whispers, Holding him by the front of his thighs.

Whining, He tries to push himself back more, one hand clawing the carpet, the other pulling a scrap of Scotts suit to his mouth, shoving it deep behind his canines, groaning into it as he breathed in the scent.

“Good thinking, Lo. You aren't as dumb of a mutt as I pinned you for.” For this, he was given an affectionate slap on the ass, a soft moan coming through the cloth.

Deeply breathing out as he pulls out just enough for the tip to still be in, quickly spitting on his hand but Logan was trying to crawl away. Before he could lather him with the saliva, Logan had tried to get up, making it only two steps away. Grabbing his leg, Scott jerks him back.

Rolling them over, Logan growls at him, about to unseath when an arm shoved his head against the side of the metal bed frame.

“Where do you think you're going? Huh? I already told you, you aren't tucking your tail out of this one. You wanna act like this? Fine. I'll tame you. Train you. You'll be my obedient pet one way or another.” Scott sneers.

Logan's eyes widen, frowning for a second as he realizes that somehow, out of nowhere, Scott had cuffed his hands, chain around the leg of the bed. Wait, when did he? How did he?

Before he could complain, His back arches slightly, putting his head back with a groan. “Fuck-”

“Watch your mouth, Mutt!” He says, shoving the cloth back in his mouth, getting bit. “Oh you bitc- fine! You wanted it, you're In for it now. Remember this when they ask why you're limping. You fell down the steps because you're a dumb mutt, got it?”

Logan nods, having trouble focusing, squirming and trying to tug at the cuffs.

“Don't even. They're vibranium. Like I said. Leaders have plans. Brute strength won't help you here, so what's your plan?”

Examining the cuffs, he notices a small J engraved into the bottom. It's now that Logan's dick twitched, his heart clenching as he smiled. Vibranium was so expensive.. and he bought them custom just for him. That must mean he cares about him, right?

“Why are you smiling? I'm about to win. Think, Logan. Remember the rules.” The rules were simple. Whoever came first loses. Practically anything else is on the table. Or.. in this case.. carpet.

The fingers that pressed into him, wet and warm, made him clench, earning him a stretch. “Quit moving. Lay down. Roll over. Stay.” He teases, slamming in again.

Logan's head goes back with a moan, drowned out by the cloth.

“Good booy, Lo. Now stay. And hush. Let your leader take care of it.” He says, smirking as he leans over him, noses an inch from each other. Logan wants to kiss him. Scratch that. He wants Scott to kiss him. He wants him to hold him and abuse his prostate like he was in a rut.

The pheromones ran through his nose as his chest heaved. He couldn't breathe, Light headed and dizzy. Or maybe it was how he looked at him when balls deep like this. Shit. He hates him. He hates him so goddamn much, and yet still he shakes with pleasure, jolting himself up off the floor while the man uses him like some kind of whore. Logan couldn't believe that all he had to do was rough him up a bit to get this kind of treatment.

He's spent so much time tripping over his lewd words in the hallway, dropping down on his knees in the shower, watching him bare chested and sweating in the danger room, Aching to be touched like this. And now he had it. This wasn't the first time, but the last time he had got too excited and came way too early.. something told him that this time Scott would stay after. He had so much energy, and putting it all out on him? It made Logan’s whines jump an octave.

Each thrust was rhythmic, the force, the length of pulling out, the angle. It was all planned. And this is why Scott was the leader. He was the guy with the plan.

“Stop tightening like that or I'll leave you here, chained up and desperate.” He grunts, swinging an arm under him to help him stay arched. With the extra support, He lets himself be limp in the upper body, biting his lip.

Leaning down, he nips at his abdomen, a soft chuckle coming up as Logan whimpers. “But you'd like that, huh? Tied up and sticky. Fucking sicko.”

He groans, each mean word causing a twitch. Putting his legs up to his chest, he spreads wide, Scott pushing up the buckle of his knee, the other holding his inner high, moaning lowly.

This is what Logan had wanted. He never wanted his hips to leave, he wanted- No. Needed Scott to use him to his own disgusting desires, fuck him every chance he got, every time he misbehaved, every time he sniffed even A hint of attitude in his voice.

The sloppier things got, the closer he got, Connecting their foreheads, eyes closed, Logan's grunts and huffs of air meeting with his grumbles of dominance and pants. It was all so warm. so beautiful. Perfect.

Spitting out the cloth, he went to say something but Scott only shoved it back in. “Shut up. Dog's can't talk.” He says, the way his stomach was tightening showing how close they both were. Whining, Logan spits out the tattered rag again, “Scooby can.”

“I thought you weren't scooby?” He smirks, a groan following, putting his face into Logan’s shoulder, bouncing a bit rougher.

Letting his mouth fall open, He moans, hands subconsciously jerking at the cuffs. This would be the time he'd scratch his back and clamp down around his waist and if it wasn't for Scott's body pushing his leg up still, he'd hold him so tight that he couldn't even think of leaving.

“Ooh fuck- fuck fuck fuck! Scott- s-Scotty fuck- please. Don't-”

“Are you finally going to behave? Huh? Mutt?”

Logan nods quickly, feeling his toes curl. “Y-yes.”

“Good boy, Logan.” He tells him the amount of rising warmth in his stomach running up his spine. Tears came to the corner of his eyes, gasping, keeping his head touching the ground as he jerks up, jolting a few times as sticky stings paint his chest, his stomach getting extra heat from the inside and out as he sits back up on his hands. “Shit-!

His claws pop, a bit of drool seeping out the corner of his lip, the stuffed feeling of artificial affection staying only a moment. Pulling away with a pop, Scott smirks, Smiling that shitty way whenever he gets his way. “God, Look at you.. Pathetic.. obedient..”

‘Mine' he hoped he'd say.

“All messy.. filthy mutt..”

Leaning up to unlock the cuffs, Logan is still buried, letting the metal sink back into his skin as he collapses, chest rising and falling against the floor, staring up at him with a pointy grin.

Bringing a hand to his cheek, Scott caresses him with a playful laugh. “You know.. you don't have to act out to get my attention. You could just.. ask.” He says softly.

Nuzzling into his hand, Logan smirks, Just now coming down from that beautiful cloud in the sky. “I'll remember that.” Taking hold of his arm, he pulls him closer, arms trying to wrap around his neck, a kiss to seal the deal on what so far has been a fun time for him.

“Woah- what are you doing?” He sits up, putting his hand on his shoulder as if pushing him away.

Logan frowns. “I was..” in An instant he felt shame fill the once warm spot in his stomach, twisting and coming up to his lungs. It was hard to breathe. Hard to think. Here was this beautiful man sitting infront of him, still fresh with the after glow, and yet… He didn't want to kiss him. Deep in his chest, he felt a pang.

“I… I thought..”

“Thought what?” The tone is condoncending, almost teasing. As if Scott was in disbelief of what he was hearing.

Leaning against the bedframe, naked and cold, Logan looks away. “...I thought were gonna kiss… Or.. somthin’..”

The laugh he coughs up is enough to make Logan want to puke, crossing his arms and closed his legs, pouting as he stares at the floor, the patch of cloth still there.

“You thought-? Logan. I'm getting married.”

It was a slap in the face. The ultimate humiliating moment.

“I'm engaged. And certainly not to you.”

“....”

“Look, What we have is fun but.. It ain't nothin.”

‘Nothin’...? Was it nothing in the danger room? Was it nothin in the shower? Nothin in the black bird?

Was it nothing on Jean's bed?

He tries to hide the gloss in his eyes as he glares at him.

And that's when I realized… I was the fool..

“...Im tellin'er…” He growls, tired of being the fool. Tired of sneaking around. Tired of betraying one of the first people to hold his head in their hands so gently.

“You wouldn't tell her anything.” He says, scoffing.

Logan had heard the foot steps, but didnt bother telling him. Why should he?

“Tell me what?- Scott?! What are you doing!?” Red stood there with a random mall dining hall cup in hand, some kinda fancy juice. She was mortified. Next to her, Ororo held a blue drink, matching Jean's red one. “Oh good goddess…”

“Jean!?” He cried, jumping up to run after the crying girl. “This is all your fault! I should have known. You just wanted to come between us so you can have her for yourself!” He scolds him, pointing at him like the master of a dog who was caught digging in the garbage.

That was the day.. I decided.. I'm done being his mutt.

“.....I just wanted a kiss..”

___The preset___

A tear drips into Logan’s shot as he stares at the table, glaze eyed and glossy with salty thick streams. “...The J was for Jean…”

Logan shakes his head softly. “I tried to be obedient.. I thought… I thought maybe he'd..”

He shifts his head, trying to hide it in his hand, face palming a few times. “I'm so stupid Wade… so stupid.. To think that.. that maybe..” The man sniffled, his crow feet getting tighter as he thought more about it.

“Oh, No, honey. He didn't even kiss you? Com’ere. I'll give you all the kisses. Promise.”

Shimmying himself into Logan's lap, he nuzzles against Logan's gray streaked chops, Grabbing his face and kissing him all over. Through the tears, Logan lets out a soft snort.

“Thanks, Wade..”

“Loagie?”

“Hm..”

“Do you want engraved Handcuffs? They probably won't be vibranium cause I told T'challa that Suri and I could be twins. Apparently she took great offense to that so now I'm banned from Wakanda.”

“You don't have too..”

“L or W?” He asks, in a serious tone, wrapping his arms around his neck. He was patient while Logan thought, checking his eyes for sincerity.

“But-”

“Or H? For Howlett?”

He smiles, a blush rising up his ears, and not cause the whiskey. “...Logan.”

“Oooh, whole name? Do you know how much engraved metal costs PER letter? Now who went and spoiled you, huh? Mr. Fancy feast cat food.” He scoffs, chuckling.

“You did.”

“Oh yeah… I did do that, didn't I? Anything for my, Peanut.”

The rest of the evening, Wade didn't let him go unkissed for A total of every 5 minutes, smooching him anywhere he could reach.

“I'll kiss ya, baby. Always.”

[gege-wondering-around]

and and and you know what else i thought

because i saw this somewhere earlier, it's time i think about the trope 'who did this to you' with bottom derek and top stiles

imagine with me now:

normal day, perhaps the weekend; stiles is at home minding his business before going to sleep. in the middle of the night he hears something moving and he wakes up to find derek sitting on his deskchair in the darkness; stiles cannot see him and so he gets closer, walking over to him, 'what's going on man?', but derek says nothing to stiles turns on the light on the desk to see what's going ong and why an alpha is silently sat on his chair in his house.

stiles immediately sees every single injuries on derek's body (spoiler: it was scoot - you know i'm talking to you now, you know who you are) and stands still in front fo him, while derek softly breaths with an arrow - or something else - in his back, piercing his lung. Stiles just starts taking care of him, sort of mad as derek can smell it off of him so he just stays silent and let him do what he wants with bandages and such (cause his cuts and injuries are not healing, guess why)

when stiles is done, he stands back in front fo derek, who keeps his eyes low to groud as in defeat and with crossed hands stiles says the famous 'who did this to you?' as if he's interrogating a bastard from the suburbs or the station down the road, but derek syas nothing and just whines in pain a little cause he tried to say something, but damn he has more hole in his chest than abs (sorry about this horrific comparison, i'll do better).

stiles notices that and kneels in front of him, picks up his chin, ask it again with a much more gentle voice and derek is able to answer.

"scott..."

stiles goes full on BAMF or something similiar but first he put derek to sleep in his bed and despite derek asking him to stay, stiles goes to see scott.

they fight. how? what's said during it? who wins? idk yet but we'll find out about that too another time.

when he gets back home (like mid evening or late morning), with a splitted lip and a bruised cheek derek is very much better than the previous night.

of course, this two aren't together yet (what did you think), so derek asks him why he did that (going to scott and beat his ass) and stiles just says 'cause you're mine' and something spicy might happen after that. (pshhh... add body worship in that spicy scene, i have a weak spot for admiring scars - yes im probably weird, but i write fanfic what did you expect)

-----

all of this because after giving you the beast of gevaudan with bottom stiles and top derek, it's always good to switch it up and im gonna tag again @oldefashioned @seaweed-water @demonicfaerie

@dontcallpanic @patolemus @hellameyers @jadezdominion @sterekloverforever(as always, i'll remove the tag if you want me to, no worries) to let them know about the news

(for whatever reason, today has been a productive day of plots, oneshot and chapters, it'll happen on the next blue moon - or whatever is the way to say 'probably ina few months of me screaming at the screen)

[imagine-you]

my love is alive and not dead [Logan/Reader]

Summary: The sixth and final chapter of won't somebody come take me home. All hell has well and truly broken loose with the arrival of old friends and unwanted guests. You want nothing more than to send Jean and the other Logan home, but you start to realize that your main priority has to be freeing your Logan from Apocalypse's clutches. You're not prepared for the sacrifice you'll have to make to wake Logan, but it might be the only way to get him home and secure the future you're so desperate to share with him. Word Count: 10.1k This Chapter May Contain: Angst, Reunions, Surprise Cameos!, Near-Death Experiences, Logan Brooding, Retribution, Teamwork, Fluff, and A Happy Ending.

Home 'Verse Read On AO3

"Get the fuck out," you spat at Jean and the other Logan. You knew Jean was the bigger threat, especially when she was using her full powers, but you couldn't take your eyes off the other Logan. You didn't trust him and you sure as hell didn't want to let your guard down around him. "Leave," you demanded when they both kept staring at you. "I don't care how the fuck you do it, but you’ve got to go back. You sure as hell can't stay here."  

"We're only here to help," Jean claimed, holding on to her usual unbothered facade. "I've defeated Apocalypse before. I can do it again. I thought you would appreciate us lending a hand." 

You rolled your eyes, beginning to form a spiked forcefield around your fist. "Get out," you ordered. "We've got more than enough here to defeat Apocalypse. We don’t need you. We’ve never needed you," you stressed, meeting the other Logan’s stare.  

"Are you really going to deny our help because of our past?" Jean wondered, arching an eyebrow at you in question. “I thought you’d want to put all that behind us given the current circumstances.” 

You let out a disbelieving laugh, taking a step in her direction. You didn't care if she could kill you with just a though, because all you wanted to do was hurt her. She had swept your life away from you like it was nothing and now she wanted to play nice? You didn’t trust her as far as you could throw her and that was not at all. You wanted her and the other Logan gone so badly that you could feel your shoulders pull tight with tension. You were poised, ready to strike at just one wrong word, but you weren’t even sure which one of them you wanted to hit more.  

"Hold on, now," Cable started, moving to put himself between you and Jean. "We're all here for the same reason." 

"Are we?" You questioned, looking from Jean to the other Logan. "Because I can't help but think their motives aren't so altruistic. After Scott died, those two made my life hell," you reminded everyone in the room. "You really think I can trust them to help me get back the love of my life? What the fuck are you two even doing here? Shouldn’t you have fucked off into the sunset together with your kid?" 

You noticed the other Logan shift warily on his feet. "You came back to get me from Omega Red. We can do this for you." You thought he would leave it there, touched that maybe he had found some semblance of compassion since you were gone. Until he opened his mouth again. "And then you can come back home." 

You blinked at him in surprise before the words fully registered. "What the fuck did you just say?" 

“Oh, it’s about to get good,” you heard Wade mutter. 

"Come home," the other Logan repeated, having the audacity to look like he genuinely wanted you back in your original universe.  

 You could do nothing but stare at the other Logan for a moment before you started laughing. It was too high, too hysterical, and entirely done with the whole situation. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you growled.  

Cable held a hand up, his palm facing you. "Why don't we just calm down, alright? Let's think about the bigger picture here." 

"No, no," Wade tutted, shaking a finger at Cable. "Let her cook." 

"What is wrong with you?" You couldn't help but wonder as you stared down the other Logan. "Do you not remember when you dropped me at the first opportunity for her?" You gestured towards Jean, trying hard not to sneer at her. "Do you not remember when I showed up to save your ass and then told you I was happier here? Do you not remember that I never want to go back, because I found the right Logan? The better Logan? Huh? Any of that ringing a bell?" 

The other Logan's jaw was clenched, and you could see him trying to suppress his irritation. "This isn't your home," he tried to argue, and you finally decided you had enough.  

You lunged at the other Logan, letting the spikes disappear as you hit him over and over again. You didn’t want this to be over too soon, preferring to take your time with the other Logan. You wanted him to feel pain and while it would never compare to the kind he had inflicted on you, it would have to do for now. So, you let your forcefield take the brunt of the impact, bringing it down into his face over and over again.  

The other Logan’s nose broke and blood was now pouring freely from a cut on his lip, but you couldn't stop. You realized that the other Logan was simply letting you take out all your anger on him and that only fueled your rage more. You didn't need pity from him or any favors. You needed him gone.  

You had drawn your fist up for another hit when you staggered back, clutching your head as a blinding agony took over. It took you entirely too long to realize it was Jean. You remembered the psychic blasts she would bestow on opponents, putting them through unimaginable pain. Now you knew what it felt like, and it only served to piss you off even more.  

You turned your attention away from the other Logan and towards her. You could shield yourself, but you wanted to annoy her. So, you brought up a shaky hand and pushed past the pain to erect a forcefield around her, cutting off her psychic power. Jean narrowed her eyes at you, but you weren't done. You felt a grin form on your face as the first spike shot out, nearly catching Jean in the side. Her eyes went wide in surprise, and you spat out a mouthful of blood. Jean's attack had startled you enough that you had bitten the side of your mouth and now blood was all you could taste.  

"You're not the only one with tricks," you told her. "Want another one?" 

"Alright, alright," Magik sighed before grabbing your arm. "Break it up, children." 

You were suddenly on the front lawn, Magik still keeping a tight grip on your arm. You could hear shouting inside the mansion, and you turned back to consider it, not able to get a good glimpse into the room where you were previously standing. 

You were equal parts grateful and annoyed for Illyana’s intervention. You wanted to see just how many hits you could get in before Jean crumbled. You wanted to bash the other Logan’s face in until he could see nothing but his own blood. You wanted to destroy them, but you also knew that it wouldn’t bring you the peace you sought. You would only get that back once the pair of them were gone and you had your Logan back. Now, you were caught in a weird limbo where nothing felt right, and everything was fucked up.  

"Fuck," you sighed before letting yourself drop onto the ground.  

"Fuck," Illyana agreed, sitting down at your side. "Breakups are messy." 

You snorted, shaking your head. "It's not even the breakup anymore," you admitted, listening to the raised voices inside the front room.  

You heard the other Logan roar before Wade was thrown through the window. He was bent over the frame, a piece of glass sticking through his torso. He let himself fall forward as a flash lit up the front room and you heard Charles tell Alex to calm down in an exasperated voice.  

You watched as Wade practically bounced back to his feet, shaking off glass as he rapidly healed the claw marks along his ribs.  

"It's her and it's him and it's them here together while my Logan is off being a weapon for Apocalypse. They're the last people I wanted to see," you continued once the ruckus died down. 

Wade dropped down on your other side, throwing an arm around your shoulders.  

"Maybe I should have called on a different ex of yours," Illyana mused, gaining Wade's attention. You could feel him practically perk up at your side.  

"Oh? Please share," Wade chimed in, leaning forward to get a better look at Illyana. "I thought she only had eyes for tall, dark, and angry in there." 

Illyana laughed, shooting you a smirk. "Not entirely," she allowed with a shrug of her shoulders. "There was one Sergeant Barnes. The two of you were so sweet together." 

You hadn't thought of Bucky in a while, but you couldn't deny that you missed him. Before the two of you fell together, you had been friends. You had been pining over Logan and Bucky had been missing Steve, so it just made sense that the two of you would seek comfort in each other. It had been good, perfect, until it wasn't. But you knew that despite the distance, if Magik had gone to him telling him you needed help, he would have dropped everything to be here.  

"Oh my God," Wade gasped, pointing at you. "Look at that smile. You fucked the Winter Soldier! Wow, you really like the strong, silent, traumatized type," he remarked, bumping his shoulder into yours.  

You ignored Wade and turned your focus on Illyana. "You need to take them back. I don't want them here. I don't need them here." 

"I think you do," she refuted, shaking her head. "Jean killed Apocalypse once before. Maybe she can kill this one too. You're being stubborn, no?" 

You sighed, not wanting to admit that maybe Magik was right. There were a lot of things you were willing to compromise for the sake of Logan, your dignity among them. "I'm not apologizing," you told her, knowing you sounded childish. "And I can't promise that I won't try to kill Jean or that asshole in there if they piss me off." 

"First, we kill Apocalypse," Magik replied, before shooting you a conspiratorial smirk. "And then if you still want to kill the two idiots, I'll help you." 

"Yes," Wade hissed in approval. "That's what I'm talking about," he agreed with a hand raised at Illyana. She simply quirked an eyebrow at him before reluctantly giving him a high-five.  

"It is chaos in there," Piotr interrupted, approaching the three of you. "I do not think this was the best idea." 

"You're telling me," you sighed, before gesturing towards Illyana. "Piotr, this is Illyana. Rasputin," you added, glancing between the two of them. "And this is Piotr Rasputin." 

Illyana looked intrigued as she turned her full attention on Piotr. She moved to stand, saying something in Russian, before Piotr responded. They had a whole conversation before wonder flashed across Piotr's face as he held his hand out for Illyana to shake.  

"Not that this isn't fascinating," Wade started, springing to his feet. He reached out a hand, helping you up off the ground. "But what the fuck is going on here?" 

"It seems we share a sibling," Illyana answered, still watching Piotr in fascination. "A brother named Mikhail." 

"Maybe we were brother and sister in another universe," Piotr speculated with a nod of his head.  

Illyana let slip a soft smile in Piotr's direction before she let it fall away. "We should go back inside. Apocalypse will only grow stronger and I'm sure you're eager to get back to your Logan. Think you can play nice? Just for now?" 

"I'll try," you conceded, shooting Wade a wary look. "But if he pisses me off, I'm going to break his face. Again." 

Wade offered you a fist bump as you trudged back into the house. You knew whatever you were about to face, he would have your back.  

The other Logan had already healed by the time you reconvened with the rest of the group. He was leaning up against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest as he glowered at the others in the room. You had to fight the urge to hit him again, instead sticking to Wade's side next to the doorway in case you wanted to make a strategic retreat.  

Of course, it didn't take long for everything to go pear-shaped.  

It started off civil and quickly teetered into more bickering and yelling.  

"We just need a plan," Cable reiterated for what felt like the fiftieth time. "Why can't we just act like a fucking team instead of a bunch of children?" 

"Because we're not a team," you reminded him. "Some of us shouldn't even be here." 

Wade snorted, before turning his gaze on the other Logan. "You got that right." 

"We got a problem here, bub?"  

"Oh, I've got ninety-nine problems, bitch, and you're every one." 

The other Logan freed his claws with a growl. "Come over here and say that." 

"Oh, I can take you, big guy," Wade promised with a laugh. "But before we get started, let me tell you my safeword." 

"Do you ever just shut the fuck up?" The other Logan snarled, taking a step towards Wade.  

"Not really, no," Wade answered, holding his hand out and curling his fingers in towards his palm, silently beckoning Logan forward.  

"We're not going to get shit done like this," Alex groaned, looking like he was barely keeping himself contained. "My brother has been taken by this Apocalypse fuck and we're getting nowhere. I swear to God, if he dies because we can’t get our shit together, I’m killing every one in this room." 

"We should figure out where Apocalypse is looking for his next Horseman," your Erik volunteered. His jaw was clenched, and you knew he was growing tired of the fighting. He had very little patience for team squabbles and you reckoned it wouldn’t be long until he started showcasing his own power, seeking an end to the arguing. 

"I can go down to Cerebro," Charles volunteered, but from the way he looked at his Erik, you knew he was hesitant to leave him. 

"That's a start," Remy mused from where he was sitting in an armchair near the broken window. "We also need to figure out how this little team of ours is gonna work when half of us wants to kill the other half." 

"I don't remember ever havin' a problem with you, sugar," Rogue pointed out, watching Remy with interest.  

"I'd never have a problem with someone so beautiful," Remy replied with a smirk. He turned his gaze on the others, his eyes landing on Jean and the other Logan. "But this won't work if we don't all play nice now." 

"I'll play nice if Wolvie over there does," Wade promised, nodding at the other Logan.  

"Don't fucking call me that," the other Logan snapped, the fragile peace in the room breaking again.  

You didn't want to listen to another argument, so you slipped out of the room.  

You found yourself wandering until you stopped outside a familiar door. You opened it, taking in the sight of the room before you. It wasn't yours, at least not in this universe, but you still found yourself walking inside as if it still belonged to you.  

You wandered from the bed towards the window. It was still the same view. You weren't sure why you were expecting it to be different, but you found it oddly comforting.  

Here, you could see the trees that outlined the property. The way the sunlight hit them, the branches swaying lazily in the breeze, brought you a measure of peace you hadn’t felt since Logan was taken. It was a sight you had appreciated in your old universe when you just needed time to think. It had offered you solace in your desolation, and while you weren’t so lonely in this universe, you still wanted a moment to yourself.  

It was incredibly short-lived.  

"I thought I'd find you here." 

You closed your eyes, forcing yourself to take a deep breath. You should have known he wouldn't be able to just leave you alone. In the Void, you had dreamt of having a moment like this one. One where you left, and he tracked you down, and you knew that he well and truly cared about you. But everything had changed, and you no longer felt anything for him except for disdain.  

You no longer needed him and you sure as hell didn’t want him here. All you really wanted was for him to go away. 

Since when had he ever given you what you wanted? 

"Get out," you ordered, not bothering to even look at the other Logan. You were trying and failing to grip tightly onto the brief semblance of serenity you had forged for yourself. You didn’t want to allow him to disrupt it, but he had a penchant for fucking things up for you.  

"You know," he started, moving further into the room.  

You groaned, letting your head dop forward until your forehead touched the glass window. “Can’t you just fucking listen to me for once?” 

"The baby wasn't mine,” the other Logan continued, ignoring your words. He didn’t say anything for a moment, letting you absorb the bombshell he dropped. “It was Scott's," he informed you, as if he thought you should give a fuck. As if he thought it changed anything between the two of you. "Jean's still in love with him." 

You laughed, not even able to help it. "I could've told you that if you hadn't dropped me the second she bothered to look at you. How’s it feel, huh? Being second best. Never measuring up to the person she really loves and lying awake at night knowing there’s not a damn thing you can do to make her love you like you love her. Never being good enough. Knowing that when she looks at you, she’s wishing you were him. Bet it fucking sucks, right? Because that’s exactly what you put me through, so I’m only going to ask you this once and I deserve an answer. Why the fuck are you even telling me this?"  

You finally turned to meet his gaze, reading his expression. No matter how much you wished to forget him, you had spent years knowing him. You didn't need to be a telepath to know what he was thinking. "Let me guess," you started, leaning against the wall behind you. "You got everything you ever wanted, paid whatever price it took, except it wasn't exactly like you pictured it. Guess that's why they say be careful what you wish for." 

"I thought she needed me," the other Logan admitted with a scowl. "But she never really did. I only ever wanted to be there for her. I wanted to be what she needed," he added with a rueful grimace. He locked eyes with you, his expression mournful but without a hint of remorse for what he had put you through. "But you, you always needed me. And I didn't appreciate that enough. But I know now. I know what you need and it’s not with him. You should come back, and I'll be better this time."  

You laughed again, this time nowhere near as amused. "You're fucking crazy, you know that? It's not my fucking fault that you fucked it all up between us. But you know what? You did me a fucking favor," you spat, advancing on him. "Because once I get Logan back, my Logan, and you fuck back off to your universe, I want nothing to do with you. You can fuck off and die for all I care, because I found someone who actually loves me and would never abandon me." 

The other Logan didn't say anything for one beat of your heart and then the next before he shook his head. "Well, he's not here now, is he?" 

"That was the wrong thing to say," you warned him before drawing your fist back and punching him again without the aid of your forcefield. Pain radiated up your arm, but it almost felt good. The blood running from the other Logan's nose felt even better.  

You decided to hit him again and again before using a forcefield to push him to the floor. You kept him there, not wanting him to move until you said what you hoped would be your final words to him.  

“I don’t need you. I don’t love you. Not anymore and never again, because I found someone, a whole family,” you amended, knowing you couldn’t discount just how much everyone in this universe truly meant to you. “So, listen to me when I tell you that I’m not going back. I never am. So, you better accept the reality you brought on yourself real fuckin’ fast, because I will never go back to you. Never,” you stressed, waiting for the hint of begrudging acceptance in his expression before you let your forcefield go. “You can do one good thing for me, just the one,” you allowed, taking a step away from him. “You can help me get my Logan back, but then once that’s done, I want you to get the fuck out of here. I’m never going back there to be with you and I sure as hell don’t warrant being your fallback plan. I don’t care if you go back to Jean and I don’t care if you leave the X-Men and wander off into the wilderness to find yourself. As long as you go back, then I don’t care. That’s all I want. That’s all I’ll ever need from you again. You got that?” 

 The other Logan briefly rolled his eyes, but his head dipped in a tiny nod of understanding. You knew only time would tell if your words had actually hit home, but you couldn’t keep trying to get it through his thick skull that you were well and truly off the market.  

You had more important things to worry about.  

"I came to check on you, but you seem to have yourself well in hand," Remy interrupted from the doorway. "C'mon, chérie," he prompted, beckoning you towards him. "Last thing you need is a broken hand along with broken ribs." 

You glanced down at your hand, the knuckles split and bleeding. When you flexed your fingers, you could feel a bone-deep ache work its way up your arm. “Yeah,” you sighed, “I’m done here.” 

Remy chuckled, glancing down at the other Logan. “Oh, I can see that.” 

You shot the other Logan a glare on your way past him, shaking out your hand. "I still don't trust you," you informed Remy as you followed him out of the room.  

"I wouldn't expect you to," he allowed with a smile. “But I supposed between me and your friend in there, I’m the better option. Did you enjoy your present?” 

You felt a reluctant smile tug at your lips as you thought about your getaway with Logan. You really didn’t trust Remy, not after everything that happened with Sinister, but you got the hint he wanted to try to make amends. “I did,” you confirmed with a nod of your head. “Didn’t think you and Wade would conspire like that.” 

“I owed you and le petit rouge wanted to get you something nice. It was really nothing,” he deflected with a shrug of his shoulders. 

“Well, thanks,” you told him, not wanting it to go unsaid between the two of you. “Keep that coming and maybe I’ll even start to like you.” 

Remy shot you a pleased grin over his shoulder. “Well, how can I resist a temptation like that?” 

You followed Remy down one hallway and then another, realizing he was starting to take you towards Cerebro. You were brought up short by Rogue leaning against the wall, obviously waiting for the two of you.  

"Wondered when we'd run into each other again," Remy mused, joining Rogue with a satisfied smirk.  

"Funny, I was wonderin' the same thing," she told him, matching his grin.  

Remy swayed forward just the tiniest bit, as if drawn in by Rogue, and you did not want to be the one to interrupt whatever the fuck they had going on. You clapped a hand to Remy's shoulder, waving off his questioning look, as you passed the pair.  

You made your way down to Cerebro, glad that you didn't run into anyone else on the way there. You got there in time to see Charles with the helmet on his head, his eyes closed as he concentrated. Piotr was standing right behind Charles, with your Erik not far behind. He was still watching over Charles, even if this wasn't his husband, as if he wanted to protect any Charles he came across.  

"What's going on?" You asked Wade, who was standing back near the doorway.  

"Ol' Chuck over there thinks he knows where Apocalypse might be holing up with his Horseman." Wade glanced at you, his tone changing to concern. "You alright there, baby bird? You're looking a little freaked out." 

"I had a talk with the other Logan," you confessed, not able to stop the frown from forming on your face. You had spent many days and nights in your old universe wishing that the other Logan would see sense and come back to you. Now, that you were finally happy, here he was making good on that wish. It just made you hate him even more.  

"Oh? How'd that go? You happen to knock him out again? I'm sad I missed the show." 

"No," you answered, "although, I did hit him again. A few times,” you confessed with an embarrassed wince. You didn’t like letting your anger get the best of you, but you felt like it was warranted for this situation. “He wanted me to go back with him, because Jean's still obsessed with Scott. The baby's Scott's by the way." 

"God," Wade groaned, stomping his foot on the floor with a huff. "I miss all the good drama, I swear. Your life is angstier than a season of Degrassi. It really goes there, huh?" 

"I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you told him, letting your arm brush against his in apology. “But I do know that I need Logan back," you sighed. "At least Laura doesn't have to deal with this bullshit. I don't want her seeing him like that.” 

"Like what?"  

"He was just...completely blank,” you settled on with a frown. “He didn't even recognize me. It was like all that we had been through was just wiped away with one touch from Apocalypse. And he's going to try to kill us, because that’s what Apocalypse will want, and I don't want Laura fighting him. She doesn't deserve to have to go through that." 

"And you do?" Wade argued, his tone disapproving. "You love him. You shouldn't have to fight him either. Not when he's going to be trying to kill all of us. I can take on the angry bear just fine all by myself, so maybe you should just wait here. Where it’s safe," he tacked on, letting you know what he was really worried about. 

"Like that'll happen," you dismissed with a humorless laugh. "I have to be there, Wade. I can’t just leave him there. Even if something goes wrong, because it will, I have to be there for him." 

Wade heaved a heavy sigh before nodding his head. "Yeah, I was afraid you were gonna say that."  

You gifted him with a sad smile before swaying into his side, letting him put an arm around your shoulders.  

"Then let's fucking go," you decided, watching Charles take off Cerebro's helmet and give a satisfied nod to Erik and Piotr.  

"Let's fucking go," Wade agreed with a nod of his head.  

Wanda and Pietro weren’t thrilled they had to stay behind with Charles and their father. Your Erik considered the two with a wistful expression before shifting his gaze towards Charles and the other Erik.  

“I’ll bring Lorna back,” your Erik promised with a solemn expression. “I’ll do whatever it takes to protect her. I know how precious your loved ones are to you,” he continued, meeting Charles’ eyes.  

There was a long, drawn-out moment when it was clear that Erik and Charles were having a conversation only they could hear. Charles ducked his head, a blush dusting his cheeks, and you marveled at the sight of Charles acting shy. You had only ever really known Charles as the steadfast headmaster, Professor X, mentor and advisor. But you were starting to realize there was a whole lot more to Charles than you had ever known, and you couldn’t help but feel curious about what his past held.  

The other Erik, where he was still lying injured on the couch, looked like he was seconds away from getting up to fight your Erik. He was jealous, you realized with a grin, and you wondered if it was part of a plot to get the Erik and Charles of this universe together too.  

From the smug expression on your Erik’s face and the challenging eyebrow he arched at the injured Erik, you knew you were right.  

“Are you sure we can’t go?” Pietro checked, speeding from one end of the room to the other. “I’m fast. You might need me.” 

“And I can fight too,” Wanda insisted, turning a frustrated look in your direction.  

“I’m afraid it’s best if you stay here,” Charles remarked, regaining his composure. “If Apocalypse has your sister, then there’s every reason to believe he’ll use her against you.” 

Pietro was practically pouting at being left out and Wade leaned over towards you.  

“Sequel material,” he whispered, ignoring your questioning look.  

Once the team or whatever the hell you all were assembled, it didn’t take long to get everyone on the X-Jet. Cable was piloting, ignoring Piotr’s attempt to take the role for himself, and promised that it wouldn’t be long until you arrived.   

You were used to being on the X-Jet, but you didn't know how to handle the awkward tension that threatened to suffocate you. The other Logan and Jean were on the opposite side of the jet from you, and while you did your best to ignore them, you could still feel the weight of their stares.  

"You alright there?" Alex asked, addressing you. He had chosen the seat on your right, spending the ride so far with an irritated expression and flexing his hands, as if he was gearing up to use his power.  

"Yeah," you lied with a nod of your head. "Worried about Logan. You?" 

"Same," he dutifully lied as well. "Worried about my brother. I'm worried about what this Apocalypse fuck might be doing to him. Worried about his girlfriend too. Scotty sure loves her," he told you. “It’d destroy him if anything happened to her.” 

"He'll be okay," you tried to promise, even though you weren't entirely sure. All you could think about was Scott's body cradled by a grieving Jean. Scott might not have been your favorite person on the team, but he had been your leader. He made the tough calls and he kept the team together when you all threatened to crumble. Without him, everything fell apart.  

You found yourself meeting Jean's gaze, knowing she could read what was on your mind. It was likely the only time you would ever feel sympathy for her, because while you had gotten your second chance with the love of your life, she never would.  

"Five minutes," Cable called from the front of the jet. "Get ready!" 

"So, we'll get Logan back and then you and him and the little munchkin can ride happily off into the sunset," Wade started, dropping down into the seat on your other side. "Then you and Logan and Vanessa and me can have a double wedding and a shared honeymoon and our rugrats will be friends." 

You couldn't help the grin that tugged at your lips. Wade always knew what to say to make you feel better.  

"Munchkin?" The other Logan repeated with a scowl. "What the hell are you talking about?" 

"Laura," you supplied, feeling just a bit of a thrill at how vindictive your next words would feel. "My daughter. With my Logan." 

The other Logan's face fell at your words and Wade snickered, turning to hide his face in your shoulder.  

"Oh, you are evil," he approved with a kiss to your cheek. "Baby bird's got claws." 

You shook your head, knocking your head gently into Wade's. "You are so weird," you breathed, tone affectionate.  

"You know it," Wade pointed out, fully sitting up in his seat once he felt the jet begin to descend. "It's showtime," he muttered, shooting you one more searching look before he was up and checking over his holstered weapons.  

You weren't really sure what you were expecting once the jet landed. You thought you would find a scene of total chaos. Hollowed-out buildings and corpses littering the ground. But all you saw when you made it off the walkway leading out of the X-Jet was Apocalypse waiting in the middle of an abandoned street.  

"Did you think you could sneak up on me?" Apocalypse wondered, watching as your makeshift team filed out onto the street. "Nothing will stop me." 

"Oh my God," Wade breathed as he took a step towards Apocalypse. "I didn’t know it was you! I loved you in Star Wars." 

Apocalypse considered Wade with a thoughtful glance before he turned his attention on Jean. "Don't I already have one of you? I admit, you would make a formidable Horseman, but I already have my team. Besides, it was never my intention to take your variant or her companion. It seems as if that was plot devised by Sinister. Now, we might never know what he had planned for them. Pity," he said, finally turning his gaze on you.  

You couldn't help but wonder if this had somehow been part of Nathaniel's plan all along. Maybe he knew if he was going to die, then he could still fuck everyone over just one last time.  

"Scott," Alex muttered, his attention caught by something just beyond Apocalypse.  

It was Scott and Jean. Both had been knocked unconscious and were lying on the sidewalk. You couldn't even tell if they were breathing, because they were too far away, but you sure as hell knew how to spot a trap that obvious. 

"Alex, don't," you warned when you noticed Alex tense up, coiled to attack. 

"You're gonna regret taking my brother," Alex told Apocalypse, ignoring you, as he geared up for his attack. He shot one plasma burst at Apocalypse, but Apocalypse seemed to anticipate the move and blocked it with a forcefield.  

"And you will regret fighting me," Apocalypse claimed with a satisfied smile.  

You nearly didn't see him, because you were so focused on Apocalypse. But you sure as hell noticed his power, an intense heat that only grew stronger. There was a burst of light before you finally saw him. You had no idea who he was, but he practically glowed, radiating a light so strong you nearly had to look away. He held up his hand, aimed at Alex, and you reacted instinctively.  

"Remy," you called, an idea coming to you. You had no idea if it would work, but you had to at least try. It might be the only way to save Alex's life. You met his gaze, nodding towards where you were forming a forcefield around the guy preparing to kill Alex. "Make it go boom," you commanded, catching his excited grin before you focused on your forcefield. 

The guy, whoever he was, was extremely powerful. You could feel the force of his power slamming against your forcefield, and you had to grit your teeth, feeling like you were barely holding on. Remy worked quick as he charged one of his cards and threw it at your forcefield.  

You watched it land, relief flooding you when you noticed the pink glow of Remy's power engulf it. Your heart was beating fast in your chest and you had to pour everything you had into your forcefield. When Remy's charge activated, you only had a moment to prepare before the explosion happened.  

The force of it was focused inward on the stranger caught in your trap. There was blood coating the sides of your forcefield, and you were hesitant to drop it, because he had been so incredibly powerful. You weren't even sure if he was dead but you waited until you felt the remnants of his power slip away from your defenses.  

"You dare to take Sunfire from me? My Famine?" Apocalypse questioned, barely concealed fury in his voice. "My other Horsemen won't fall so easy," he promised and then you heard the roar.  

It wasn't Logan. This was deeper, louder, and unfathomably terrifying.  

"Oh, fuck! Fuckety, fuckety, fuck, fuck!" Wade yelled, before pointing at something just behind you. "The Hulk is in this?! Ah fuck, not again," Wade groaned, sounding resigned. 

"Shit," you breathed just before a giant green hand entered your field of vision and swatted Wade away like he was a fly.  

You took off running, all hell breaking loose as you caught sight of a girl with dark green hair wielding a power that reminded you a lot of Erik's. Between her and the Hulk, they were making quick work of keeping the team busy and their focus off Apocalypse.  

You searched the chaos unfolding before you and finally spotted your Logan. There was a red cloth wrapped around most of his face, but his claws gave away his identity. He was fighting the other Logan, both throwing themselves into the fight with a ferocity that terrified you.  

Jean had turned her attention on Apocalypse while Alex helped her with his plasma blasts. They were both being careful not to hit the other Jean and Scott and you knew both were fighting to ensure that Scott survived. Erik, Magik, and Rogue were fighting Lorna and Piotr, Remy, Wade, and Cable were all taking on the Hulk.  

You wanted to run to Logan and try to get him to remember. You wondered if you could break him of Apocalypse's spell, but you weren't even sure if it was possible. You had decided to try something, anything to get through to Logan, when you found yourself in the middle of a different fight.  

The Hulk let out another roar before pounding his fist on the ground, sending the others around him flying back with the impact. You weren't sure how, but you managed to snag his attention, and he advanced on you.  

"Y/N, run!" Wade yelled, but you were eager to get the entire fight finished so you could get Logan back. You formed a forcefield around Hulk, one of the biggest you had ever created. You could feel the stretch of the field as it entrapped him, and you were worried that it would simply end up snapping. He brought a fist up to pound on the side of the forcefield and you could feel it rattle you, practically shaking you with its force.  

The Hulk wouldn't die easy, but maybe if you could keep him contained for long enough, then the fight with Apocalypse could be won. All you had to do was subdue him and wait for Apocalypse to fall. 

In theory, it was a decent plan. In execution? You should have never taken your focus off of Logan.  

You were so focused on keeping the Hulk in your forcefield that when someone stepped in front of you, you didn't even register the threat at first. You only had a moment before you pulled in a breath and felt it cut off with a wheeze, agony blooming quick through your chest. Your forcefield dropped as you stared up into Logan's eyes, shock and fear warring within you.  

"Logan," you gasped, reaching up to grasp his wrist. Both sets of his claws were buried in your sides and you could feel them inch deeper with every attempted breath. You felt like you couldn't focus on one thought, but all you could see was the man you loved.  

"You're hurting me," you managed to choke out, the taste of blood slipping into your mouth. You coughed, crying out when that only made the pain worse. Red was spreading out across your shirt and soon enough you would be soaked with your own blood. You could hear Wade screaming your name and Hulk was barreling towards Cable and Logan didn't even realize he was killing you. All you could think was that once he regained control of his own mind, this would kill him.  

"It's okay," you got out on a shudder. You stopped gripping his wrist and instead brought your hands up to cup his face. It only brought you more pain, your full weight resting on his claws, but you knew a losing battle when you were faced with one. At least you could spend your final moments doing something you truly wanted to do. "You have to forgive yourself, alright? Because I forgive you." You were rapidly losing vision, the picture before you fading into a disorienting shade of grey before color flooded back in only to be snatched away again. "I love you," you whispered, blood starting to leak from the corner of your mouth. "I love you, Logan," you stressed before letting yourself fall forward just enough to brush a kiss against his lips.  

He pushed you back, adamantium slicing you deeper, and you cried out in agony.  

Recognition suddenly flooded Logan's eyes and you dropped to the ground when he quickly pulled his claws from you. "Oh God," he breathed, horror and guilt clouding his expression. "Y/N, I--" he only managed before Piotr tackled him to the ground.  

Logan was quick to throw him off before he was back at your side. He pressed a gentle hand to your side, before shaking his head. "Baby, I don't know what to do."  

Logan wasn't usually one for pet names, but he only brought them out for certain situations. You knew he must have really been scared, but you were having a hard time feeling anything at all. "It's okay," you told him just as Wade dropped to his knees at your other side. "It wasn't you. It wasn’t you," you assured him when he looked like he wanted to protest. 

"I wasn't even aware of what I was doing. It’s like he pulled a mask down over my face and I couldn’t see past it. He had me doing so much fucked up shit for him and I didn't even blink. And he wanted me to kill you, and I was gonna, but then I just couldn't." There were tears in Logan's eyes and he looked like he wanted to scoop you up into his arms, but he was too worried it would only hurt you more. "I don't even know how I broke out of it. God, I wish I'd done it sooner." Logan's hands were trembling as he cupped your face, managing to press a chaste kiss to your lips.  

"I know what pulled you out if," Wade chimed in, reaching out to grab your hand, despite Logan's snarl in his direction. "Wuv," he answered, "Twue wuv. God, where's Fred Savage when you need him?" 

You could feel your eyelids growing heavier and you were having trouble keeping your eyes open. "I just need to sleep," you mumbled, already feeling yourself begin to slip away. “Just let me rest my eyes.” 

"Wade," Logan said, looking to him in panic. "What do we do? I don’t know what to do here." 

Wade was silent for long enough that you started to realize you must be well and truly fucked. "I'll watch over her," Wade finally volunteered before nodding at the fight that had been carrying on around you. "And you go help them finish that fucker off for good." 

You managed to turn your head to the side to see Jean along with Erik and Illyana fighting Apocalypse. Logan gave a firm nod of his head before he pressed a kiss to your forehead. "I'm gonna make this right, sweetheart, okay? And you just hold on for me. You hold on and I’ll be back for you," he promised you, before you watched resolve fall over him.  

He turned away from you, letting loose a low growl, before he sprinted towards Apocalypse. You started losing moments in bits and pieces. Wade was gripping your hand so tight and you didn't have the heart to tell him you couldn't even feel it. The other Logan was getting thrown around by the Hulk while Piotr landed hits where he could and Remy distracted him with explosions. Alex was hovering over his brother, willing him to wake up. Rogue was pressing an uncovered hand to Lorna's neck, effectively draining her and knocking her out. Rogue then turned her attention towards Hulk, using Lorna’s stolen power to help Remy. 

And Logan, who was nearly feral in his rage, was bringing his claws relentlessly into Apocalypse's neck. Apocalypse had been weakened from the onslaught of Jean's full power combined with the others. Erik had taken a metal beam and impaled Apocalypse with it, nearly pinning him to the ground. Magik had managed to hit Apocalypse over and over again with her sword, leaving Apocalypse hurt enough that when Logan took one last swipe with his claws, letting out a howl of grief and fury, Apocalypse's head rolled back and fell to the ground.  

You managed to hold on long enough to see Logan turning to look for you, unhinged and wild, the brute Erik had always made him out to be. But the second he met your eyes, his expression softened and the love you had been missing flooded back onto his face.  

It was the last thing you saw before unconsciousness finally rushed in to carry you away.  

You woke to a steady beeping noise and the feeling of being suffocated. You opened your eyes, blinded by a bright white light, before you closed them again. You were sore and your mouth felt like it was full of cotton and you didn't remember how you got here.  

"On your left," Wade called, gaining your attention.  

You managed to open your eyes again, seeing Wade still outfitted in his full bloodied Deadpool getup sitting in the chair at your side.  

He let out a pleased snort and turned his full focus on you, carelessly throwing away the People magazine in his hand to the side.  

"I've always wanted to say that in this kind of situation, but no one ever really wants me at their bedside when they wake up. Can’t imagine why," he mused with a wistful sigh. 

You glanced from Wade to Laura sleeping on the couch against the wall. Something wasn’t quite right, you realized through the haze of painkillers. It took you entirely too long to figure out that Logan wasn't in the room.  

"You missed a lot while you were out," Wade continued, leaning forward in his chair to consider you. "But I guess several hours of life-saving surgery and numerous blood transfusions will take a lot out of someone. So, let me catch you up. The people your friend Magik brought here have all fucked back off to their universe. That other Logan said it was what you wanted, so he left with his pretend baby mama. Had a feeling there was some trouble in paradise for that particular couple, especially when Logan almost killed that other douchenozzle when he tried to get all weepy over you. Rogue and Gambit seem to have something going on now. You think correspondence across the multiverse is hard? Because they've got some shit to figure out. And Logan? Well, he's being a broody little bitch who thinks you don't love him anymore because he almost killed you."  

You weren't sure what to say, mind overloaded from information. You were relieved the other Logan and Jean were gone, but you were a bit sad you didn’t get to tell Illyana or your Erik goodbye. You were pretty sure they would forgive you, though, considering the near-death experience.  

"Where is he?" You croaked, wincing when you noticed how your throat felt like it had been scraped raw. 

"They only took out the breathing tube a little while ago,” Wade informed you. “And that idiot is somewhere around here," Wade answered, shrugging his shoulders. "He hasn't left the hospital since they brought you in, but he's also been reluctant to show his face around here. It’s not like his claws managed to snag on anything vital. That’s the only reason you’re alive, you know that? I’ve got a theory, though. I think the angry bear, despite how much he claims he can’t remember being a puppet, knew it was you he was trying to kill. I think he did what he could not to hurt you. If it was anyone else, they would’ve been dead long before they could try to kiss him."  

You knew Logan would never truly leave you, but he wasn’t going to concede easily. He was probably spending his time thinking he was a danger to you and convincing himself that it was best if he loved you from afar. He was likely already thinking of moving into an apartment across the hall and only seeing you when you needed help. 

You couldn’t have that. Not after everything fighting for him for so long. You needed Logan all the time and you would be damned if you let him slip away from you.  

It didn't take you long to make up your mind.  

"I need a favor," you told Wade, already struggling to sit up.  

Wade reached out, placing a hand on your lower back to help you. "I thought you'd see things my way." 

You rolled your eyes, an indescribable fondness welling within you for Wade. "I need a distraction so I can get out of here." 

"Leave it to us," Laura cut in, moving to get off the couch. You didn’t even notice her wake up. "And if you ever go off into a fight without me again, I'll kill you myself next time." 

"No, you won't," you pointed out, slowly raising your arms to beckon her into an embrace.  

Laura huffed out a laugh into your shoulder, her arms cautiously coming up to wrap around you. "He's just worried, you know. He thinks it's all his fault." 

"And I'll just have to convince him it's not," you easily replied, as if dealing with a stubborn Logan was ever easy.  

"Good," Laura responded with a smile.  

You held her by the shoulders, being careful not to aggravate your injuries, and simply took her in for a moment. You hadn't been lying when you told the other Logan Laura was your daughter. It might not have been through any conventional means, but she sure as hell was your kid now. And you were so fiercely proud of her and you loved her so much that just looking at her felt like you were lighting up inside.  

"Love you, kid," you told her, pouring in all your affection for her into the words.  

"I'm not a kid," Laura refuted with a shake of her head, but the smile on her face returned the love you felt for her.  

"Yeah, yeah, you're a grown teenager," Wade dismissed with a wave of his hand. "You going to get the angry bear or not, baby bird? Because clock’s ticking and the longer you let him brood, the longer it’ll take to pull him out of it." 

"Yeah," you allowed with a nod of your head, turning a grin on Wade. He was your best friend and so much more to you. He was your family, your confidant, your protector, and your savior. You figured as long as you had Wade, Laura, and Logan, you would always be home. Now, you had two of them, so you just had to go track down the last one to make the set complete.  

Wade clapped his hands together, shooting an expectant look at Laura. "Then let's get ready to cause one hell of a distraction, munchkin." 

Wade's idea of a distraction entailed flirting with a nurse while Laura set a fire in the break room. As the fire alarm rang, you slipped out of your room once you had managed to get dressed in the clothes Laura had left for you. Your sides ached and you felt like you couldn't pull in a full breath, but you reasoned it was a lot preferable to the death you had been prepared to endure.  

It didn't take you long to find him. Logan might have thought he was hiding, but a waiting room just down the hall wasn't exactly subtle. The fire alarm had drawn enough attention that the room was empty save for him.  

"Hey," you whispered, watching him from the doorway.  

He was leaning forward in his seat, his elbows on his knees and hands hanging in front of him. His head was bowed, and it took him a few seconds after you spoke to finally look at you.  

"You shouldn't be out here," he protested, making to get up.  

You shook your head, crossing the room until you could cautiously lower yourself into the seat next to him. He gave you an exasperated sigh, shaking his head.  

"I take it the fire alarm was Wade? Should've known you'd be stubborn about it," he grumbled. 

"About what? About you trying to keep your distance because you think you're to blame?" 

"I am to blame," Logan snarled, his hands shaking in front of him. Logan clasped them together tightly enough that he was starting to draw blood and you could see the way his shoulders tensed. You knew he wasn't angry with you, his fury focused on himself, but you didn’t want him to hurt himself over something completely out of his control. "I'm the one who hurt you. It was my claws that did the damage." 

"No, Logan," you argued, wanting so badly to reach out, but not sure if you were welcome to touch him. "It wasn't you. It was all Apocalypse. I know you would never hurt me. Not willingly," you amended when he shot you a doubtful look. "The second you snapped out of it, you tried to take care of me. That wasn't you, Logan, and I would never hold that against you." 

"You should," he muttered, turning his head away to stare down at his hands.  

"The only reason you went with Apocalypse was to save me," you reminded him. "If I had been stronger, if I hadn't been so distracted--" 

"Don’t do that," Logan denied, turning an incredulous stare on you. "You're one of the strongest people I've ever met. The shit you go through and you're still able to pull yourself back up and keep fighting. You've never surrendered to it the way most people would have." 

"I did once," you admitted with a grimace. "In Nathaniel's world that he built for me. But that's because I lost you and Laura and Wade. I can't do any of this without you." You knew you had a darkness in you, fed by years of pain and abandonment. But your family, especially Logan, was the light that broke through it. As long as you had them, you would never lose your way, because they would be there to guide you home.  

"That wasn't real," Logan pointed out. "There's no way in hell I'd ever leave you like that." 

"Yeah? You seem to be trying your best to right now. Or else what are you doing in this fucking waiting room and not with me where I need you?" 

Logan tried to look away, but you took your chance and tucked your fingers under his chin, pulling his gaze back to you.  

"There's nowhere you can go that I won't chase you down. You did it for me with Sinister and I did it for you with Apocalypse. If I have to, I will spend the rest of my life telling you that what happened to me wasn't your fault, because I love, you idiot. I love you more than anything and there's no me without you, don't you get that? It's always been you. It's always going to be you." 

Logan pulled in a shaky breath. Understanding was beginning to dawn on his face and you decided to go for broke.  

"Take me home, Logan," you pleaded, pulling your touch away from him. “Take me back to our home.”  

Astonishment flashed across his face. "You shouldn't want to go anywhere with me." 

You reached out to grab his hand, pulling it towards you. You placed a kiss to his knuckles, where his claws would spring free in heat of battle. You heard Logan's breath hitch, terrified, as a guarded hope overwrote his expression.  

 “I know what I want and it’s always going to be you.�� You didn’t know how to tell Logan that you wanted everything with him. The good and the bad and the deadly and the fun. You wanted to build a home with him and Laura. You wanted to coerce Laura to take college classes after completing her GED and you wanted to watch her grow up without having to worry about her survival at every turn. You wanted to have Vanessa and Wade over for dinner and you wanted to fill the spaces of your home with love and laughter and family and friendship. You wanted to end each day with Logan only to begin the next one with him as well. You only wanted what you had been fighting for all along. 

Logan, at your side, and forever yours.   

"Logan Howlett, I will gladly spend the rest of my life with you. No matter how short or how long that might be for me. I want you to occupy all the rest of my moments. You’re it for me and the rest of my life is yours if you’ll have it," you told him, letting your fingers lace through his so you could hold on tight to his hand. You could feel your pulse fluttering and your heart pick up its beat, because while you were confident that Logan loved you with the same intensity you felt, you knew he had a self-sacrificing streak a mile wide. Logan would run if he thought it would save you, but you would never let him slip right out of your hold again.  

After what felt like an eternity, Logan snorted, the sound half-amused and wholly confused. "You proposing or something?" There was a brief flare of hope in his eyes, but you knew he assumed you were joking.  

"Yeah," you replied, dead serious. "I'd get down on one knee, but you'd just have to help me back up off the floor, and I can't spare that kind of dignity right now. Not until I've got an answer." 

Logan watched you for another long moment, as if trying to assess the sincerity of your words. Finally, he squeezed your hand, nodding his head in answer. "Alright, then," he conceded with a barely-there smile that betrayed just how pleased he was feeling. "Let's get married." 

You tugged Logan into a kiss, savoring the reminder of his taste and touch, when you were startled by the sound of someone clapping. Logan groaned, resting his forehead against yours, and met your eyes.  

"Think we can disinvite Wade from the wedding?" 

"You kidding? You can't leave me without a maid of honor." 

You looked over to see Laura and Wade watching the pair of you from the doorway. It looked like Laura had managed to singe the ends of her hair with her distraction.  

“You wanna celebrate with us or what?” You asked, already wondering how soon you could be released from the hospital so you could go home with your favorite people.  

You met Logan’s gaze and from the warm smile on his face, you knew he was thinking the same thing. 

Laura threw herself at the pair of you as Wade kept clapping. He heaved a sigh, placing a hand to his chest. "God, I love a happy ending."  Author's Note: This has been such a wild ride and I can't thank y'all enough for going on it with me. There will (hopefully) be a sequel eventually. I want to bring in Venom along with bringing back Peter Parker, Wanda and Pietro, and probably Rogue and Magik. Maybe even Bucky. My next fic will be my Wade/Reader/Logan one, though, which also involves some past Johnny Storm/Reader. If you want to be tagged in the new fic, just let me know!

Taglist: @wonderfrost @mrsyixingunicorn10 @blackbleedingrose @arrozyfrijoles23 @elianamarie-blog

@sarahskywalker-amidala @whiskytoast @shizzybarnaclee @zbeez-outlet @halepack2011

@facelessfionna @i-left-my-cat-on-the-stove @whyam1heree @serendippindots @janilovecookies

@lollipopsandstuff @4ria790 @jtthompson @id-rather-be-in-middle-earth @the-gentle-spirit

@hazel2928 @gothicknightz @mkay33 @bibblesdiscordkitten @albionfay

@songwizard @kailera @zeeader @amandarobertsboyce @shilohh28

@astudyoftimeywimeystuff @whatthefawk-isthis @loonalockley @newromantics98 @cherrypieyourface

@gigabitemyass @yyhdl @lunaticgurly @starbuni @quinnlyyy

@i-wear-wet-socks313 @itsspiderluv @slightlymediocree @ayamenimthiriel

[crazyk-imagine]

Breaking Hearts and Making Names

Pairing: Nathan Scott x Fem!reader

Characters: Chris Keller, Fem!reader, Nathan Scott, Brooke Davis, Peyton Sawyer, Lucas Scott, Marvin "Mouth" McFadden, Antwon "Skills" Taylor, Haley James (Scott)

Warnings: Fluff, one tree hill funsies, chris keller being a punk, reader taking no shit, brooke and reader being bestie's, the girls needing to rope reader in, reader is kinda like a fem wade wilson, this was kind of random but also not, I love making reader besties with Brooke, this has been in my drafts for a bit, happy to have posted it, lowkey a stupid fic but a fun one

Word Count: 676

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You turn the corner when you hear him flirting with another girl and roll your eyes. You walk towards the stairs to Nathan’s apartment and raise a brow.

"How old are you again?" You cross your arms, staring at him.

Chris turns around and furrows his brows, confused as to what you’re getting at. "What?"

"How old are you? You're not in high school and yet you're preying on young girls, under the age of eighteen might I add which I believe would make you a pervert." You turn to the girl he’s been talking to and lean in, “you can go now.”

She nods and scoots around him so she can leave.

He scoffs, rubbing his face in annoyance. “Chris Keller is offended and not a pervert."

You lean in closer to him, "would you really prefer it if I called you a pedo?"

His eyes widened. "Man, you're cold."

Your shoulders deflate as your eyes soften, "aw, Brooke taught me well." You spin around and catch her gaze as she walks closer to you, throwing her arm around your shoulders.

"I did and I'm so proud."

You both throw your heads back and chuckle.

He shakes his head, watching the two of you take the lead and walk up the stairs to hangout in your boyfriend's apartment but not before adding, "I know you're checking someone out, you pervert. I would say kiss my ass, but you can't so, suck a d-"

Peyton and Haley have never pulled you away from the railing as fast as they have in all their lives while Brooke throws her head back and laughs, clapping her hands to where it sounds like she’s smacking her hands together.

-

The guys get out of the car and walk towards the defeated musician. Nathan glances up when he hears your laughter.

He can’t help but chuckle, knowing you had something to do with Chris’ defeated look. "What happened?"

The musician lifts his head, staring at the youngest Scott boy with a defiant attitude.

Before Nathan decided to officially ask you out and not hide his feelings from you, he made sure to put the infamous Chris Keller in his place.

"The one in your hoodie is mean."

The Scott brother's glance at one another and nod.

"Makes sense," Lucas says.

He and Haley always liked your style and the way you carry yourself, which explains why you’ve been friends with them for as long as you have.

It helps him when the other guys on the team want to try and pick on him or if a certain guy who refers to himself in the third person needs to be put in his place. But the downer for those who come across your mean streak is-

"She and Brooke have been hanging out a lot.”

“We've never known someone to have the same amount of brazen personality as Brooke until they met and, as Brooke likes to say, they “clicked”. I’m surprised you made it as far as you have," Nathan adds.

"She hurt Chris Keller's feelings."

"Something tells me, she doesn't care," Nathan tells him before heading up the stairs.

“Tell your brother to control his girl.”

Lucas shakes his head, “I’d rather not. She can get pretty mean if I try to tell her to do something.”

Mouth and Skills chuckle to themselves as they pass him.

“I wouldn’t take what she means to a heart man,” the latter tells him.

The blond pouts. “How would you take it if she called you a perv?”

“I’m not, so I don’t have to worry about it.”

Mouth nudges his friend in the side, causing him to whine. “What he means is, you should watch what you say, or you get the look.”

“The look?”

Mouth nods, “the look.”

The two walk away from him, leaving him to follow behind and see the infamous look that your friend was talking about.

He chuckles and thanks whatever karma was in his side to prevent him from getting a stare down from you. 

[sherlockggrian]

For the first time in a long time, Grian realizes something.

The people in this world love each other. They care about each other. Grian has spent so long isolating himself, keeping a safe distance from any real alliance, making sure everyone knew they couldn't trust him in the end, because there is always an end, always chaos, and no matter what happens, the only way out is to die. Grian knew that, he still knows that, but for the first time, he can see something else too.

When he presses the button and dies, for a moment he can see everything, all the destruction, the weight of it all. He can see all of the greens and yellows, coming together to defeat the wither, fighting together, not each other, fighting for their lives and their teammates and friends.

Afterwards, they bury Mumbo and Jimmy together. This time it feels different. Grian's killed before. He's killed both Mumbo and Jimmy at his own hands. And he knows it's his fault, this time, too, but it's different because it didn't even matter. For the first time in what feels like years of this game, Grian feels fucking terrible. He's felt guilt before, but never this sort of grief, never this level of horror at what he's created. Because this isn't the usual world of every man for himself, of utter chaos and bloodshed, this is a world where everybody came together, and for the first time, Grian starts to understand why Scott still believes in love, and hope.

And the watchers hate it. They hate what they've always hated about Grian - that he's still human.

[riahreadz]

Random post but here we are in my statistics class avoiding paying attention so let's get to the point.

My favorite tropes, micro-tropes, minor details, etc. in Teen Wolf fics, listed cause why not:

Stiles doing everything in his power to protect the Hales. Spark or not, the Hales are his family, and he'll either die protecting them or kill anyone in sight that threatens them.

I'm all for angst - angstier, the better, okay? So when there's some big bad that has to do with fire, or just some random flame and Stiles noticing Derek and Peter's becoming nervous around it? Or his strong need to protect them from anything to do with fire. It's chefs' kiss 🤌🏼

Despite loving angst, I NEED a HAPPY ending. Because of this I always read the last paragraph/sentence/scene to make sure it's happy and only read finished fics. It works okay?

Peter hates everyone but Stiles. He's actually quite weak for the human/spark. Stiles knows he can get away with just about anything because he's got Peter wrapped around his finger.

Stiles being the only person to know where Peter's home/den is.

Peter, being just so soft with Stiles, warms my heart. Obviously, Peter is bad, but make it make sense for him to be bad. And the best way to do this? Protecting what's his - Stiles, his den, his pack.

The endless nicknames. Like I get some of these come from the show, but I'm talking about the dramatic usage of them. Zombiewolf, Creeperwolf, Sourwolf, Red, etc.

Stiles obsession with Derek's eyebrows and his ability to interpret them!

When a fic expresses Peter, being touched starved gets me every time. The angst! And how it's always Stiles to the rescue and noticing this.

The thin line between love and hate, enemies and friends/lovers/mates between Chris and Peter. The build up to them as teens, blow out break up cause of the family dynamics or the fire and Chris leaving to protect coma Peter! bonus if Chris leaves a letter or some type of communication for Peter for when he wakes and then coming together to defeat the Argents once and for all, or just simply living out the rest of their life in peace finally together.

When Peter and Chris are together romantically and as pack Alpha/Alpha Mate and are raising Allison and Malia together. Like idc what age the girls are at, but they're sisters. Peter is Allison's dad, Chris is Malia's dad.

Stiles/Peter/Chris and honestly they fit into any micro/trope I mention about Peter/Chris.

Stiles figuring out how to go back in time to save Allison

The pack bonds between Stiles, Erica and Boyd.

The brother/sister love between Derek and Erica.

The deep sighs Derek and Boyd share when they act to be put off by their mates Stiles and Erica but in reality are so in love with them that they just find every little thing their mates do as cute.

The absolute beautiful friendship between Stiles and Lydia.

Bad friend/bad alpha Scott

Sheriff Stilinski (Noah or John?) realizing his son's love and connections to the Hales - bonus points if he sees it before Stiles realizes he's in love with Derek or Peter. And just accepting it, whether he puts rules in place or not.

I even enjoy seeing some Malia and Jackson are actually twins reuniting as siblings and Peter as their dad.

I didn't know I'd enjoy this one, but Sheriff Stilinski and Jordan 🤨 never really cared for Jordan but I'm on board with this ship.

And on that note - Malia and Kira but as a side ship. Don't really care to read them as a main ship.

Issac having attachment/dependency issues with Derek. Straddling the edge of brothers or even Derek sorta being a father figure.

Stiles straddling his love interest - Derek, Peter, or Chris. Literally has me squealing every. damn. time.

Murder husbands Stiles and Peter.

Derek or Peter and Stiles leaving Beacon Hell. Bonus points if they gather the pack along the move.

The ideal pack depends on who Stiles is with especially when it comes to dynamics (I've rewritten this point so many times but need more than a bullet point to describe this so it'll be another post that I'll connect to this post eventually. )

Peter taking care of Stiles after the nogitsune. At any level. Literally could be just being someone for Stiles to talk to or hang out around cause he knows Peter isn't judging or having to physically care for Stiles cause he's dissociating.

Stiles and Jackson forming a bond over their shared trauma of being controlled by the nogitsune/kanima

I love the idea of Peter wisking Stiles away from Beacon Hills rather to heal or permanently.

But I love it when Stiles stumbles or intentionally finds Derek outside Beacon Hills.

Neck scenting 🤝 neck biting

I love a good magical Stiles and Peter being proud/impressed

I loveeeeeee when Stiles calls Peter his Alpha and Peter's eyes flash cause he just can't control himself 100% around his boy + or cause he never thought he'd have this Alpha power, Stiles, a home, a Pack

The easy banter between Stiles and Peter

But the silent communication between Derek and Stiles - cause od the eyebrows obviously- or just cause they can read each other so well

Stiles standing up to Scott for Derek due to the Gerald instance of having Derek bite him

Or Stiles standing up and defending Peter or Derek against Scott

Teen Wolf Movie fix it - Derek doesn't die or he does and Stiles brings him back

Stiles. Is. Eli's. Dad. In every way that matters. Rather that's biological or not. Mpreg, adoption, etc. Doesn't matter. Eli is Derek and Stiles's son.

Peter taking care of the Sherrif to please Stiles rather than taking him healthy food, eating lunch with him, etc. Bonus if it starts during the healing from Nogitsune when Stiles can't quite get back to feeling normal again.

Window creeping. Derek or Peter starting the sneaking in and out of Stiles window that eventually turns into anyone from the pack.

Derek or Peter healing Stiles, physically bandaging him up and/or using their wolfy mojo black vein pain stealing thing

JUST ONE BED 😱

Slow burn enemies to lovers. This works for both Steter and Sterek. Even Stetopher.

Mate bite placement theory ✨️

I think that's it for now. I'll probably add more and more eventually or as I read even more fics 🤣 idk why I even wrote this all us but okayy.

Eventually imma write up ideal packs and dynamics from the perspective of Alpha Derek or Peter, given Steter, Sterek, and Stetopher. And specific tropes/micro given which ship.

Comment some of your favs! I need more ideas lol

[just-a-hooman64]

After Neo Agent 3 defeated Octavio in the crater, he had completely disappeared.

In all honesty the Agent had forgotten about the DJ. He never showed up at any of the Alternan islands. Honestly it was impressive how such a big octopus could vanish without a trace. When Octavio had appeared again in the fight against the bear, the Agent didn't get a chance to glance at him. It was only when they landed back on Earth did they notice the fuzz that was smeared across half of his body. Before they could say anything, the DJ shooed them away as he scuttled to one of the storage crates that scattered the landscape. What a weird guy. When Neo 3 returned to the NEW New Squidbeak Splatoon base, they instantly got bodied with questions from Agent 1 as she shook them back and fourth by the shoulders. With a Dizziness growing in their head, they pointed towards the crate. A large thud emanated from the rectangular vessel when they did, what comical timing. DJ Octavio was in there, and something had happened.

When Callie opened the crate doors, she wouldn't have recognized the Octoling that was sprawled across the ground if she didn't recognize Royal Octarian Emblem that was clearly pinned to the old man's clothes.

Erm.... what the scallop.....

Yall remember that Half Mammalian Octavio design I mentioned... yea.,,,

I'll probably make a proper reference sheet for him soonish since there's a lot about him that are not pictured here, but this was sitting in my files begging to be posted so! Here yall go!

(Ive been super busy recently so I cannot guarantee anything new getting posted SOON soon.. but it'll be soon..)

This whole thing is inspired by Octavio getting completely BODIED by fuzzy ooze when the crater caves in. Unfortunately i do NOT think he would be able to walk that off scott free

Pictured here ^^ (Screenshot is from Jaymoji's Splatton 3 Story Mode video)

That old man got CAKED in the stuff, so I figured this could be something cool to explore. Yes I have a reason why he is no longer perma-swim form, yes I have a reason for his different eyeball, and yes I have a reason for only one of his hands being stained Wasabi green. I'll get around to explaining things--most likely in that aforementioned reference sheet post.

Here is a version without Callie's text and shadow

If youve made it this far nd read everythang,,, thank you !! Octavio has been spinning in my brain for like a full month now and I have had SO many thoughts about him that I can't wait to share! I hope my little drabble wasn't too poorly written lol, I am very rusty to say the least

Without further ado! I hope whoever is reading this has a wonderful day! Stay Freshh!!

[heart-over-heart]

Alright I've been thinking about this for days now and I need to get it out. So here's some thiam analysis? headcannon? I guess.

Cannon s6 Liam feels guilty about what they did to Theo. It haunts him. /Thats/ why he brings him back. Sure. They need Theo. But do they? Can Theo be useful? Definitely, but can they beat the wild hunt without him, very probably. maybe. But Liam has been haunted by Theo being dragged under the earth, literally crying and screaming to be helped. And all of a sudden, to Liam, Theo was no longer this inhuman, psychopath. Liams final image of Theo is extremely human. Theo was terrified and it's such a different version of him from what they had all seen. And. Liam is a good person. He cares about people, even people who hurt him (see: brett). So, yeah. It haunts Liam, so he finds a reason to bring Theo back. And when he does, he has to hope he's doing the right thing. He has to hope that Theo can be better because otherwise Liam was wrong and they have to send him back and so he just keeps hoping Theo will prove him right. "He's my responsibility"

And then Theo? Yes, our boy absolutely just falls head first for the first person in ages to know what he is (a monster) and still stick up for him. Even if Liam is just trying to use Theo (at first), he's giving Theo a chance, which is more than anyone else will give him. Then after things calm down and they defeat the wild hunt and Theo spends months(?) homeless with nothing but time to think and reflect, he won't admit it, but he starts to regret or feel guilty. The weight of the people he's murdered closes in on him. Just a bit. Just enough to consider wanting to do better. And he starts with Liam, the person who first gave him a chance. He saves Liam from killing Nolan and Gabe for two reasons 1) he doesnt want someone else to live with that guilt of murder and 2) he knows what he did to Liam. He manipulated Liam into almost killing someone (not just someone, Scott) and now he understands how fucked up that was. So he does everything in his power to keep Liam from crossing that line. He tries to teach him to control his anger so Liam doesnt risk accidentally going too far. "You didn't kill him. That's progress."

I just. There is literally so much about their dynamic that is fascinating and so much to dig into. Like, yes they definitely seem to be starting to develop feelings for each other, but it doesn't start there. It starts with guilt and then they find more and more in common.